Trusting Dishonour
by Lil Lupin
Summary: Sequel to Show Not Your Fear Harry is back for his sixth year at Hogwarts. But then Dumbledore offers him an unexpected chance, without Sirius' knowledge. Harry becomes wary of the new Herbology teacher, and then there's Sirius' romance life...
1. The Order of the Phoenix

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; all belongs to JKR.

A/N: Okay, I did wonder whether to follow on from OoTP, or to continue from _Show Not Your Fear, _but I decided to do this in the end, due to certain events happening at the end of OoTP. I recommend you read _Show Not Your Fear _first, but it's not essential. So this is almost-definitely an AU. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it. If you do like it, read on, and please review!

Chapter 1; The Order of Phoenix

The English countryside was peaceful and silent. The summer night air was warm—a reminder of how hot the day before had been; perhaps the hottest of the summer so far. Stars winked from the dark sky above, and the glowing orb of the full moon provided the only light in the open countryside. The scene could not have been more tranquil.

A sharp bark pierced the silence; a large shaggy dog leaped out from the long grass. Its bark was met with a low howl. A wolf jumped at the dog, playfully pushing it to the ground, and then bounded a little way off. The black dog picked itself off the ground, trying its best to look dignified, but the wolf let out a small bark that could have been a laugh. Looking disgruntled, the dog sat heavily back down.

"_I'm worried about him Moony._"

His words came out as a series of soft barks, but the wolf understood.

"I'm sure he's fine, Padfoot. Remember he's nearly sixteen; he can take care of himself. He said so."

The dog let out a little sigh. "_He's not a normal fifteen year-old, though; he's Harry Potter, and consequently number one on Voldemort's hit list. What if he's attacked while we're not there? What if he has a nightmare? What if he's ill?"_

"_He could have gone to Katherine's," _the wolf said, sounding amused. _"Only you wouldn't even consider it. You're not the only godparent – she is his godmother."_

"_Yes, well…" _the dog muttered darkly.

"_You can go back to the house, if you want, if you're worried about him. I doubt he's even awake; we did tell him not to wait up…"_

"_And I wonder if we were right to do so. He could have a dream about Voldemort, or worse – he could be attacked while he's sleeping!"_

"_There's enough protection on the house to ensure no unwanted guests can get in, Padfoot. And if Harry has a dream…well, he'll write to Dumbledore, and then tell us in the morning. He's not stupid, you know. You don't give him enough credit."_

"_I suppose…" _The dog's gaze drifted upwards towards the sky. _"I wonder what Lily and James think of the job we're doing?"_

"_I think they'd be pleased, Padfoot, I really do. All they ever wanted for Harry was for him to be happy. And he's happy now."_

"_He's seen too much at his age. It's a wonder he can even smile after what he's seen…"_

"_True, he doesn't smile as much as maybe he should, but he's coping remarkably well."_

"_Well, that just makes up for everything, doesn't it?" _There was an icy edge to the dog's voice.

"_Padfoot, he saw his girlfriend die, and almost saw you die too – how do you think most people would feel? Very guilty. Now take that guilt and multiply it by a thousand times, and you get some idea of how much Harry blames himself. He's a tough kid, though; he doesn't let his emotions about that show very often."_

The dog was silent for a while. _"I don't know what to do, Moony, I really don't. He's been through hell and back more times than I'd like to count, and yet, he refuses to share his pain. How on earth can I get him to stop bottling everything up. It doesn't do him any good."_

"_He'll come round, old friend. He'll talk when he's ready. But don't push it – Mundungus Fletcher thinks Harry's going to crack and have a breakdown any day. Don't give him the satisfaction of being right – we all know how insufferable he can be…"_

The dog didn't answer; merely turned round and sat down again, so that his body was facing in the direction of the house.

* * *

Harry Potter, contrary to anything Mundungus Fletcher might think, was not verging on the edge of a mental breakdown. True, he realised he might have been had he been forced to return to the Durselys' that summer, but this wasn't the case. He was living in a huge house with his godfather and his godfather's best friend, who did everything possible to ensure he was happy. And he was. Most of the time.

He threw the duvet cover off his body in pure frustration. It really was no use; he was never going to get any sleep in this heat, and knowing that Sirius and Remus were running around outside as dog and werewolf respectively didn't help much either. They hadn't allowed him to accompany them, despite the fact he could take whatever Animagus form he wished; he was the Heir of Gryffindor, and this happened to be one of the many abilities he had inherited, and sometimes wished he didn't have. Sirius was generally easygoing on most things, but even he had put his foot down on this one. _'"No, Harry, I don't want you out and about at that time of night – especially when both Remus and I can't defend you if need be. It's just for one night. You don't mind, do you?" _And Harry had replied, with some resignation in his voice: _"No, I can take care of myself."_

He regretted that answer now. It was true he could take care of himself, but it was also true that he'd rather be outside with Sirius and Remus. Sighing, the teen sat up in bed, and reached for a letter he had received the day before, a spare piece of parchment and a quill. Almost as an afterthought, he took his inkbottle from the nearby desk as well.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? Is Sirius feeding you well? I know Remus would, but Sirius can be a little irresponsible. And, good grief, that man's probably going to leave you in the house alone tonight—I offered to take you, but he wouldn't have it. Honestly._

_Congratulations on your OWL results; you must be very pleased. I'm very proud of you. For your own interest, I have enclosed a copy of Jessica's OWL results. _

_I think she would have wanted you to know, as she can't herself. And don't you dare start blaming yourself again; it wasn't your fault. If it's anyone's, it's Voldemort's. Don't beat yourself up about it. I've done enough of that for the two of us._

_Anyway, I hope to see you soon, if that idiot who also likes to call himself your godfather is willing. And if he isn't, tell him I'm seeing you anyway._

_Love_

_Katherine_

Very wisely, perhaps, Harry had not shown the letter to his godfather. It was a well-known fact that Sirius and Katherine did not exactly get on very well. Every time they were in the same room, it seemed to Harry as though they were immersed in an argument within three minutes. Sirius, Harry suspected, was afraid Katherine would try and take his godson away from him, and that Harry might want to live with his godmother instead. Katherine, on the other hand, thought Sirius was too jealous, and was determined to see more of Harry, just to wind Sirius up.

Harry took out the other piece of parchment attached to the letter. He had put off looking at this until now; he hadn't been on his own long enough to see it. But now he felt ready to look at Jessica's results.

_Dear Mrs. K. Greenfield,_

_Your daughter's OWL results would have been as follows:_

_Advanced Charms - Exceeds Expectations_

_Advanced Herbology - Average_

_Arithmancy – Exceeds Expectations_

_Care of Magical Creatures - Outstanding _

_Charms – Outstanding_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts - Average _

_Herbology - Outstanding_

_History of Magic - Average_

_Medical Training - Outstanding_

_Potions - Average_

_Transfiguration – Exceeds Expectations_

_Overall, your daughter came 7th in the year. _

_We offer our deepest condolences on your loss of your daughter._

_Professor McGonnagall_

_Deputy Headmistress. _

Harry sighed, running his fingers through his already-messy hair. No matter what Katherine said, if it wasn't for him, Jessica would have got her OWL results herself. He could have dissuaded her…stopped her…anything…from seeing Voldemort. But, no, he'd wanted someone there with him, and he'd led Ron, Hermione and Jessica into danger.

And now Jessica was dead.

It should have been Harry, and he knew it.

_Dear Katherine,_

_I'm fine – how are you? Yes, I am being fed enough; Remus does most of the cooking anyway. And, yes, they left me here by myself, but this is probably the safest place in Britain at the moment, the amount of protection spells that are on it. _

Harry had the sudden urge to pour out everything to his godmother, to tell her that it was his entire fault her daughter was dead, but he couldn't. He knew it would be of no use; Katherine would tell him it most certainly not, and Sirius would be annoyed that Harry had told Katherine instead of him.

_Thanks for Jessica's OWL results – I really do appreciate it._

_Harry_

_Yeah, _Harry decided, _that looked okay. _It didn't seem as though he was being over-emotional, but it didn't make him look like some ice-king either. He called Hedwig over, talking to the white snowy owl softly as he tied the letter to her leg. She gave him a friendly nip on the fingers, and flew out of the window.

* * *

Sirius let himself into the house at approximately six o'clock in the morning. The sun had already risen, and Remus Lupin was no longer a wolf. His body lay battered and bruised in Sirius' arms; he was still unconscious. Sirius' plan was to put him straight to bed, then head to his own bed. He would call Poppy Pomfrey later on in the afternoon.

What he didn't expect to find, however, was his godson already up and doing his homework at the kitchen table.

"Harry?"

The fifteen year-old looked up, startled. His whole posture relaxed when he saw it was only his godfather.

"Hi Sirius." His gaze fell on Remus. "Is he all right?"

"He'll be fine; he took the wolfsbane potion, remember. It was a relatively mild night, compared to some I've seen. He'll still need to see Pomfrey, though. I'll be back down in a second."

He disappeared upstairs, taking his friend with him as he went. After transfiguring Remus' clothes into pyjamas, and putting him in bed, he came back downstairs, into the kitchen, flopping down into a seat opposite Harry.

"So, tell me," he said, "whatever possessed you to get up early just to do homework? Don't tell me you were _that _eager to do Snape's essay."

Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes on the parchment in front of him. "It's Advanced Transfiguration, actually. I don't see the point of setting us homework in the subjects we're going to drop anyway."

"What are you doing up, anyway? It _is_ six am, you know."

"I know." Again, Harry shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

Sirius looked sceptical. "How long have you been up?"

"Dunno – most of the night, I guess."

Sirius groaned. "We told you not to wait up."

"It's just like I said; I couldn't sleep." Harry's eyes met Sirius'. "Don't moan at me – I'll catch up on the sleep tonight."

Silence fell. Sirius' expression was now one of reproach. "Harry, you're not inhuman. You do need sleep."

"You haven't had any all night," Harry couldn't help but to point out.

"I'm just about to grab some now. Once I'm sure you're going to go to bed, _and_ go to sleep for a few hours."

"I'm not tired," Harry said, stubbornly, and then returned to his essay. Sirius got the impression he was still upset at being left alone the whole night, instead of being allowed to come. Sirius stood up.

"Have it your way. Go to sleep if you're tired."

"I'm not."

Sirius had already left the room.

Around four hours later, having completed his History essay, and started on his Advanced Charms, Harry proceeded to make himself a cup of coffee – something that Sirius had managed to get him into when he had trouble staying awake.

"Morning, Harry."

Harry looked up to see the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore. He gestured to the coffee pot. "Coffee, sir?"

"That would be very much appreciated." The old headmaster sat down at the kitchen table, smiling as Harry put a mug of steaming coffee in front of him. "I trust you found your OWL results to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, thank you, sir," said Harry, taking a seat opposite Dumbledore. "Sirius and Remus were pleased."

"And so they should be; they were excellent results." Dumbledore smiled, but there was something in his eyes; something which hinted that there was more.

Harry frowned. "That's not all you came here to discuss, was it, Professor?"

Dumbledore held Harry's gaze intently for a moment, and then shook his head. "No, Harry, that is not all." His gaze flittered up to the ceiling. "I suppose Sirius and Remus are sleeping?"

Harry nodded. "It was a full moon last night, Professor."

"I guessed as much. Very well. That makes what I am about to tell you much easier." He looked at Harry seriously over the top of his half moon glasses. "I thought you might prefer to be asked this on your own.

"You may have heard of the Order of the Phoenix from either your godfather, Remus or your godmother, possibly?"

Harry shook his head. He remembered vaguely hearing about it once, although he had never really known anything about it. Dumbledore sighed.

"Very well, I will start at the beginning.

"The Order of the Phoenix first came about in the first war against Voldemort. It consisted of a band of witches and wizards, who came together to fight Voldemort, but the Ministry did not know about it. The Ministry still does not know, and I hope they will not find out for a good many years. It was founded by myself. I hand pick the members. Among those members in the first war were Sirius, Remus, Katherine and, yes, your parents, Harry."

Harry smiled, shyly. More information about his parents.

"However, in this war, we have had to recruit more members, and still our members are not full." Dumbledore looked very old all of a sudden. "I was wondering if you would consider joining our ranks, Harry."

"M-_me_?" Harry's eyes were round. "But I'm not talented, or anything…well, apart from being the Heir of Gryffindor, but if it wasn't for that—"

"Whatever the circumstances, Harry, you are a very powerful wizard; more powerful than most adult wizards, in fact. I would not usually ask someone under eighteen to join, but you are an exception to the rule." Dumbledore surveyed Harry carefully. "This is a decision that should not be made light-heartedly. It can be very dangerous, hence—"

"—Why you thought I should be told on my own," Harry finished. "Sirius wouldn't want me to be in any more danger."

Dumbledore nodded. "You may tell him if you so wish, but do not allow him to make your decision for you."

Harry looked down at his hands, biting his lip. Much as he wanted to join the Order, he knew that Sirius would be angry that he had purposefully put himself in more danger than necessary. He would also be angry with Dumbledore for even suggesting it in the first place. And, yet, strangely enough, Harry couldn't let go of the idea.

"Do I have to give an answer right now, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no. I want you to give the matter careful thought and consideration. I would, however, like an answer a week from now at most."

Harry rubbed his forehead, still thinking about it. "Yes, sir."

"Excellent." Dumbledore drained the last of his coffee, and stood up. "I must be leaving you, now, but do remember Harry; no one can make your decision for you."

"I'll remember that, sir."

Harry only watched as the Headmaster let himself out of the house. Despite the whirlwind of information swirling around in his head, there was only one thought that stayed clear in his mind:

How on earth did he manage to get himself into these situations?

A/N: That concludes chapter 1, for today, folks. And, goodness, it's long…hope you enjoy! Please review!


	2. Screaming Banshees

A/N: Well, chapter 2, everyone. Thanks to all those who reviewed!

Chapter 2; Screaming Banshees

     It was several hours before Sirius came down, still looking tired, but better than he had done earlier. He grinned at Harry, who was reading _A powerful guide to Defence Against the Dark Arts, _and fell onto the sofa next to him.

"How's it going?"

     Harry shrugged, his eyes still on the words in front of him. "Alright, I guess. Good sleep?"

"Okay—I fell asleep almost straight away." 

     An awkward silence fell. Harry kept his eyes very firmly on his book, afraid that if he said anything more, details of what Dumbledore had told him earlier would come pouring out of his mouth. And Sirius would not be pleased, he knew.

"Harry, are you upset with me?"

       In spite of himself, Harry looked up, startled at the question. "Should I be?"

"Well, you're not very talkative, and because of last night, I thought—"

"—I might still be annoyed," said Harry flatly. "Yeah, I was pretty angry, but it's done now, isn't it?"

    Sirius sighed. "Look, Harry; if Death Eaters, or Voldemort, had attacked, I would have been the only one able to defend you. Remus would have been defenceless, and I'm not so powerful that I can take on Voldemort."

"So instead you left me alone, where I was more prone to attack anyway." Harry's tone was still flat. 

    Sirius ran a hand back through his hair. "You weren't, though; not even Dumbledore could get in here, if he didn't know how to." He gave a weak smile. "I don't want to fight with you, Harry, and I'm sorry, but it had to be done. Forgive me?"

    Harry shrugged again, turning a page of the book unnecessarily loudly, indicating he wanted to be left alone. Sighing, Sirius got up from the sofa, and wandered into the kitchen. He flicked his wand at a plate. A sandwich made itself up on it, and then flew over to Sirius. It occurred to him, as he was eating, that maybe he should have asked Harry whether he wanted anything, but somehow he had a feeling that his godson would have refused anyway.

    A few minutes later, a large tawny owl flew through the window, carrying a heavy parchment. Frowning, Sirius quickly relieved the owl of its message, and unrolled the scroll.

_Dear Mr. Sirius Black,_

_                                     You are required at the Ministry of Magic, Department of Justice, tomorrow at 11:30am precisely, to discuss your current position, and our grave mistake. _

_ Regarding your recent request to the Department of Childcare, concerning the care of one Harry Potter, you—_

     Sirius jumped violently as a face appeared in the kitchen fire.

"Sirius! How's Remus?"

   It was Poppy Pomfrey. Sirius greeted the nurse with a smile; he owed her more than he could ever repay—she had looked after Harry on numerous occasions, not to mention taking care of Remus after the full moon. 

"You might want to take a look at him; I'm not sure if he's awake yet, though. He looks a bit bruised. Come right on in."

"Very well." Poppy Pomfrey's face disappeared, and a few seconds later, she was stepping out of the fire. She was not wearing her usual white uniform, but still looked every inch the nurse, with her crisp expression, and her black bag.

"He's upstairs." Sirius gestured to the hallway, where the stairs were. "First door on the left."

"Of course." Madam Pomfrey disappeared up the stairs. Sirius, rather nervously this time, continued reading the letter.

_Regarding your recent request to the Department of Childcare, concerning the care of one Harry Potter, you have been granted full custody until Mr. Potter comes of age. _

A smile spread slowly across Sirius' face. Both he and Harry had agreed to send the application in; in any case, it seemed appropriate. However, Harry was not changing his name; it would be too confusing, not to mention that it would throw the entire wizarding world into disarray if they had to say 'Harry Potter-Black' every time they referred to him.

It appears that the late Lily and James Potter left their son's welfare to one Sirius Black, and, if that was not possible, then to one Katherine Greenfield. However, owing to circumstances beyond our control, neither of you was able to receive Mr. Potter. Nonetheless, he returns to you now, and we wish both of you the best of luck.

_Honestly,_ Sirius thought, _they make it sound like we're getting married._

_Please see enclosed copies of Mr. Potter's birth certificate, and medical records._

_Hope you are well,_

_Hickory Heartwind_

_Deputy Minister of Magic_

     Urgh, another meeting with the Department of Justice tomorrow—that wasn't so good. However, maybe this new grant of custody would persuade Harry to forgive him. 

He strode back into the living room, a grin very firmly on his face. Harry looked up from his reading. His eyes fell on the letter in his godfather's hand; the letter bearing the Ministry seal. 

"Is that…?"

    Sirius nodded, his grin in full force. "We got it!"

Harry's green eyes grew very wide, his mouth slightly open. "Are you telling me they actually granted an ex-convict custody of the Boy-Who-Lived?"

   Sirius could only nod. Harry looked amazed.

"Holy sh—" He caught himself before he swore, but he was also grinning happily. "I can't believe it! Does Remus know yet?"

"Not yet—I only just got the letter. I'll tell him later; Poppy Pomfrey's with him at the moment."

   Harry sat there, still looked amazed and delighted. "Oh my God…I still can't believe we got it!"

"I know—it's great, isn't it?" Sirius suddenly got a glint in his eye. "How about you and I go out to celebrate?"

    Harry suddenly looked unsure. "Aren't we supposed to stay here?"

"Well, technically, yes, but I'm sure Dumbledore won't mind just this once, and, besides, they can't keep us locked up like caged animals. How does ice cream at Florean Fortesque's Ice-Cream Parlour sound?"

     Harry grinned again, nodding. "I like the owner; summer before third year, I did most of my homework there, and he gave me free ice cream sundaes."

"What are you waiting for, then? Let's go!"

*               *               *

    Harry got up late the next morning, owing to a late night of celebrating with Sirius. Remus had not been amused when they had arrived home nearing one in the morning, but had been almost as delighted as they had when he heard the news, and demanded that Sirius write letters to everyone they knew to tell them about it. The three of them had finally fallen into bed at approximately four in the morning. 

Remus was already up when Harry arrived downstairs, reading the _Daily Prophet_. He greeted the teenager with a smile.

"Sleep well?"

   Harry groaned as he sank into an armchair. "It's hard to sleep when you're so happy."

    Remus almost laughed, until he realised how serious Harry was, and how tired he was. "You should have stayed in bed for longer."

    Harry shook his head. "No." And then, trying to draw the conversation away from himself: "Is Sirius still in bed?"

"No; he's already left for a meeting with at the Ministry," Remus explained. "He won't be back for hours, I'm afraid; you know how long those meetings drag on for. So it's just you and me for the time being. Do you want anything to eat?"

    Harry shook his head from where he was half-lying in the chair. "I'll wait until lunch. I'm not hungry right now."

       They fell into a comfortable silence. Remus watched Harry around his newspaper. The teen appeared to be thinking very seriously; his brow was furrowed, and he was staring off into space, very like Lily used to do. Finally Remus could stand it no longer.

"Anything on your mind, Harry?" he asked, a light teasing note in his voice. 

    Harry started. "No," he said. He went back to being silent, but, just as Remus suspected he would, he spoke again a few seconds later. "Yes, there is," he confided, sitting up a little straighter. "But I can't tell Sirius, and, if I tell you, you can't tell him either."

   Remus frowned. "It can't be that bad, Harry. Sirius would be very worried if—"

"That's just it," Harry interrupted. "He would be worried if he knew, and really angry as well. I will tell him…just not until I've reached a decision."

    This time Remus nodded in understanding. "He won't hear a word of it until you tell him yourself." He leaned forward, putting his newspaper aside. "Now, come on, what's bothering you?" It was important to get Harry to talk, he realised. He had a tendency of bottling everything up, and that was unhealthy.

"Well, yesterday morning, when you and Sirius were sleeping," Harry started, "Dumbledore visited." He paused, waiting for Remus to say something, but when he didn't, he continued. "He told me about the Order of the Phoenix, about its members, what it did, why people joined. Then he offered me the chance to join."

    Remus drew in a sharp breath. "You're right; Sirius would be angry if he knew. Have you given Dumbledore an answer yet?"

    Harry shook his head. "I've got five or six days at most left to decide. It's just…I don't know if I'm ready for this. I'll be the youngest there, but I don't know why they want me there. Dumbledore says it's because I'm powerful, but I don't think that's it. And then there's Sirius…if I say yes, what will he say? He'll go mad, because I'm deliberately putting myself in more danger. But it will mean I'm actually able to _do _something towards helping, instead of just sitting around. I don't know what I'm supposed to say! I don't know what Dumbledore _wants _me to say! And," Harry's voice, which had been getting steadily louder and more frustrated, now became low, "I wish he'd just give me a proper reason why." He groaned in annoyance. "It's giving me a headache just thinking about it."

     It was the longest outburst Remus had ever heard from Harry. He didn't speak for several seconds, choosing his words with care. 

"I think, Harry," he said, carefully, "that it is your decision. But I don't think Sirius will be all that angry with you. Maybe at Dumbledore, and he might have a bit of a rant at you, but he'll forgive you. He knows how difficult this is for you. And Dumbledore's probably got lots of reasons for you joining, but he gave you the most important one; you're one heck of a powerful wizard, Harry." Remus' voice became quiet. "I know Lily and James would be proud of you, whatever your decision."

     He could only hope that Sirius didn't take it too badly if Harry did decide to join the Order. Whatever he told Harry, Remus knew he'd be annoyed. And if Harry didn't join, then there was no need for him to know.

But it was up to Harry.

*               *               *

Dumbledore— 

Harry told me about being invited into the Order; he seems quite stressed about the decision. Sirius is posing as a particular problem—Harry would most likely accept straight away, if it were not for Sirius; he's afraid of what his godfather will say once he finds out (Harry told me all this while Sirius was at a meeting in the Ministry). I think he seems to be more inclined to accept, but it's with a little trepidation. One thing is clear, though; he will not Sirius until he's reached a decision. 

_Yours,_

_Remus Lupin_

*             

Remus— 

_  I suspected as much. Please do not allow Harry to become too worked up about it; if he becomes too stressed, he is more prone to having dreams about Voldemort, I fear. Sirius will begin to notice that something is amiss. I seem to remember last summer Harry was prone to migraine attacks, especially after dreams of Voldemort. If this happens, please contact Poppy Pomfrey—I believe she has some excellent medication for it. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

*               *               *

    Two days later, Sirius was starting to notice Harry's preoccupied thoughts, and almost-continuous headaches. Harry, trying to act as though everything was fine, made a comical sight as, finally having had enough, exited a room always just before his godfather came in.

"Remus," Sirius said, one night, when Harry had already gone to bed hours before, "do you think Harry's ill?"

"Er, no, not that I'm aware of." Remus looked up from his reading. "The headaches probably just indicate that he's tired." _And anxious, _he added, silently.

"Then do you think he's angry with me in some way?" Sirius persisted, leaning forward.

   _Damn. _"No, not at all, Sirius…you know what teenagers are like. Harry's bound to act like a normal teen sometimes."

      Sirius sighed, running a hand back through his hair. "Yes, but Harry's not a normal teen. He's just—"

   He was cut off by a faint scream. Both Sirius and Remus exchanged quick glances. _Harry._

    Without another second's waiting, Sirius pushed himself away from his chair, and ran to the door. He yanked it open, ran into the hallway, and almost crashed into the opposite wall. Then he was up the stairs, two at a time, Remus right behind him. He pulled open Harry's door, panting slightly.

    Harry was sitting up in bed, a book open on his lap, his eyes drawn to his cupboard. Sirius rushed over to him.

"Harry, are you alright? We heard a scream…"

   Harry shook his head. "That wasn't me—it came from in there." He gestured to the cupboard, which was now rocking about. Remus drew his wand, motioning for Sirius to do the same, in case he needed to protect Harry. And then he strode up to the wardrobe, and pulled open the door.

        Another piercing scream sounded, only much more loudly and distinctly. Harry covered his ears, trying to block out the sound. It hurt his head. Sirius pointed his wand out in front of him.

"Show yourself!"

"Sirius," Remus said loudly, trying to be heard over another scream. "Sirius, it's a banshee."

"What the hell is it doing in there?" Another scream. "Quick—get it out!"

"Okay, on the count of three…one…two…three!" Remus raised his wand at the same time as Sirius.

    The two of them shouted a spell Harry didn't recognise, but, whatever it was, it cut the scream off rather abruptly, and the cupboard stopped rocking. Slowly, Harry took his hands away from his ears. 

"What _was_ that?" he asked finally.

    Remus sighed, putting his wand away. "A banshee."

"How did it get there?"

It was Sirius who answered this time. He flopped down on the edge of Harry's bed, fingering his wand. "Anyone can banish banshees to somewhere, Harry. You could do it if you tried. That's what Remus and I did, only we generalized it so that we were just getting it out of the house. It could be anywhere. But my guess is," he said, "that Voldemort decided to concentrate the spell, and banished it to the house in the first place."

    Harry frowned. "But why?"

"The sound of the banshee can potentially weaken someone's powers, apparently, but that's only a theory. Quite frankly, that's only been proved on very weak wizards; I'm sure it won't have affected any of us."

    The three of them were silent for a few moments, contemplating it. Then Sirius seemed to start out of his reverie.

"Come on, you need to get some sleep," he told his godson, sliding the book from his lap, and putting it down on the desk. "Remus here thinks that's why you've been getting headaches; through lack of sleep."

"Or through Banshee meetings," Harry muttered, but he lay down in bed anyway, rolling onto his side. His eyes were on Remus, who held his gaze steadily for nearly a minute, and then looked away, at Sirius. Sirius flicked his wand at the lamp, and the two of them left in darkness.

Harry, however, didn't fall asleep for a very long time.

A/N: Well, what do you think? I had a bit of trouble with this chapter, but, you know. *grins* Please review!


	3. The Decision

A/N: Third chapter, in which we all hear Harry's answer to Dumbledore. Enjoy! And thanks to everyone who reviewed! Sorry about the long wait – I haven't had access to a computer for a while. In this chapter I'd like to remind all of you that this is an AU fic, and so Sirius' home life will not be as referred to as it is according to Order of the Phoenix. It will be according to my MWPP fics; _Home is Where the Heart Is _and _Operation Engagment. _

Chapter 3; The Decision

"Morning, gentlemen." Sirius dropped his fork as he heard the voice. It fell with a loud clatter onto his plate. He retrieved it, somewhat red-faced. 

"Morning, Dumbledore," Remus said, remembering his manners. His gaze slid over to Harry, who was keeping his eyes very firmly down on his breakfast. "Any particular reason you're here? There hasn't been another attack, has there?"

    Dumbledore shook his head. "No, no, not at all. However, I would like to speak with Harry here, if that is agreeable." He didn't add it, but the word was all too clear in his tone: _alone._ Whereas Remus caught it, and stood up to leave, Sirius didn't budge. 

"Whatever you have to say to Harry, you can say in front of me," he said to Dumbledore.

"Sirius," Remus warned. "Just leave them. Harry will probably tell us later."

    Sirius mouth was set in a firm line. "Harry is my responsibility. I have a right to hear whatever this is."

    Both Dumbledore and Remus opened their mouths to speak again, but Harry beat them to it. 

"Sirius, please. I promise you'll get to hear about it later, but please. Just go with Remus." His voice was strangely quiet. 

Sirius' eyes hardened, and he abruptly pushed his chair back and stalked out of the room after Remus. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the door, and it flew shut. Then he seated himself at the table, across from Harry. It was only then that he spoke.

"Well, Harry, I trust you have reached a decision?"

     Harry nodded slowly. "I think I have, but first I want to know a few things."

Dumbledore smiled. "Fire away."

"First," Harry leaned forward, "how soon will everyone know that I've joined?"

"Not many people _will _know, Harry. Just the members, and a lot of those are people you know already. However, they will find out very soon if you do decide to join." Dumbledore looked Harry over carefully, lowering his voice. "I will not lie to you, Harry; you can be a valuable asset to our side. The dreams you have of Voldemort can warn us straight away about an attack."

    Harry nodded. "And what will it mean for me if I join? What will happen?"

"Well, usually our members are given 'missions' so to speak, and jobs. Some of our members had the job of putting protection spells on this house. Some have to sort out certain issues with the Ministry of Magic, or, indeed, with Voldemort." Dumbledore paused, still surveying Harry carefully. "What is your decision?"

"I," Harry met Dumbledore's gaze, "I would like to join, sir."

"I expected nothing less from you, Harry." He took a very old-looking piece of parchment from his robes, followed by a phoenix feather quill. "After you have signed this, I want you to repeat the words I say. Once that has been completed, a mirror reflection of your own power will hit you. It should not hurt. Most wizards stagger only slightly."

    Harry nodded, and took the quill. "Have you got some ink?"

"You will not need it."

     Harry paused, pondering this, and then quickly signed his name. The words came out in a strange colour, bordering on both red and gold. Dumbledore stood up, motioning for Harry to do the same. 

"I, Harry Potter."

"I, Harry Potter," Harry repeated.

"Am willing to join the forces of light against dark."

"Am willing to join the forces of light against dark."

"And will serve."

"And will serve."

"Until my death or severe injury."

 "Until my death or severe injury."

       Dumbledore's face remained impassive, and took out his wand, placing the tip against Harry's chest. 

"I, Albus Dumbledore, hereby pronounce Harry James Potter a member of the Order of the Phoenix!"

       A white light forced its way out of Dumbledore's wand, and hit Harry's chest. The strength was so great that even Dumbledore staggered backwards slightly. From somewhere, Harry heard a door open, and a man's voice, as he hit the floor with a sharp impact, and everything went black.

*               *               *

"This…all your fault! None…happened…why…ask him…first place?"

       The sentences were disjointed, not making sense through the thick fog in his head. Someone was angry; Harry couldn't determine who it was. He shifted slightly, trying to determine where he was. He was reluctant to open his eyes, for fear of angering whoever it was further.

"I merely thought, Sirius, that perhaps Harry might like to join. He certainly has the talent and is a very valuable member to have."

     So it was Sirius who was angry. But why? Unless…_Oh. I passed out, and Sirius knows everything now, doesn't he? And he's blaming Dumbledore. Bloody Merlin. I'd like to return to unconsciousness, please._

"He's fifteen, Dumbledore! Not yet graduated; not even of age! Being a member of the Order is dangerous, and I don't want him exposed to that kind of danger. He's just a child."

    _Child. _Harry forced his eyes open, and forced them to focus; his glasses had been left on him. "Hey, I resent that."

       He was in his bedroom—someone had obviously taken him up there, and put him in bed. Sirius had his back to his godson, and was nose to nose with Dumbledore. Dumbledore's eyes were flashing dangerously behind his half-moon glasses. Remus was standing a way off, his arms folded, watching the scene unfold. He smiled slightly at Harry as the teen sat up in bed. 

     Sirius whirled around at the sound of Harry's voice, his face etched with fury. "You! I haven't even started with you, yet, young man. What in Merlin's name do you think you were playing at? This is the most ludicrous thing I've ever heard…Dumbledore was mad to suggest it, and you…I can't believe you went along with it! You're too young to deal with stuff like this—you wouldn't understand…"

"That's what you've said before," Harry cut in. "Like it or not, Sirius, I understand a lot more that you seem to think."

    Sirius' face hardened. "You're not even sixteen, Harry. You've got a hell of a lot more to learn. You're too young to be in the Order."

"I'm also too young to have faced Voldemort and got away alive—five times," said Harry. "I've done that, and I'll do this."

"You're too young." Sirius was deliberately being stubborn. "I won't allow it."

"Sirius, it's not even your decision. It's mine, alright? Mine. I'm old enough to make my own decisions, and I want to do this. And, anyway, you can't undo it; I've already been initiated into the Order."

"I bloody well _will _undo it!"

"I'm afraid that's impossible," Dumbledore spoke up. "Harry made a vow that he would serve in the Order until his death or severe injury. It cannot be undone."

"That's stupid! He doesn't even understand the implications of that vow—"

"You're wrong."

"What?" Sirius snapped.

"You're wrong," Harry repeated. "I understand the implications perfectly, and I'm happy with them. I've just told you, Sirius; I'm old enough to make my own decisions! I don't need you to make them for me!"

     There was a stunned silence. Then Sirius cleared his throat, and spoke, his voice shaking slightly. 

"Fine," he said. "Fine, if that's the way you feel…just don't come running to me when you find it's one hell of a lot more serious than you thought." 

    He turned on his heel, and pushed past Dumbledore, pulling the door open, and then slamming the door behind him. Harry slumped back on his pillows, staring blankly at the door. Remus exchanged a quick glance with Dumbledore, and moved forward.

"Harry…"

"Just leave me alone," Harry murmured. "Please, I just want to be alone."

*               *               *

     "Sirius, can I come in?" Remus waited patiently for any sound from the room within. When he heard none, he knocked again. "Sirius?"

     Still nothing. Deciding that his friend was probably asleep, Remus crept along the hall to Harry's room. Harry had shut himself in his room for the rest of the day, refusing to emerge even for dinner. Remus was fairly certain that, at nearly midnight, the fifteen year-old was asleep. Still, best to check.

    Quietly, he opened Harry's door. The room was shrouded in darkness, although the curtains were open. He crossed the room, and pulled them closed, so that Harry wasn't woken by the sunlight at dawn the next morning. Harry himself was recognisable only by a glimpse of jet-black hair above the duvet cover. Remus pulled the duvet away from the teen's face, and smoothed the covers down. Deep down he knew that Harry was far too old to be tucked in, but doing something so simple made him feel better about the argument between Harry and Sirius earlier that morning. 

"Night, Harry," he whispered, before leaving the room, letting the door click softly shut behind him. 

*               *               *

     Sirius wasn't a man who liked to waste time. After spending twelve years in Azkaban, and a further two on the run from the Ministry, he liked to do things as soon as possible. He put this into practice now.

     Getting out of the house without anyone noticing was easy. Harry had barricaded himself in his room, and Remus spent most of the afternoon in his study. Sirius merely shrunk his packed bag to roughly the size of a large marble, and slipped it into his pocket. Then he changed into his Animagus form.

     Padfoot found it easier to get out of the house without being seen. It took him less than thirty seconds to get from his bedroom to outside the front gate. And then he took off, running west, towards the late afternoon sun, leaving his own house behind, with his best friend and his godson in it. 

    He gritted his teeth as he ran. Harry…in the Order? Ridiculous! Yet…Sirius could see how it made sense; Harry had seen Voldemort many times, and had a strong connection with him—he would be able to warn them of an attack in advance. It was dangerous for Harry, but Harry refused to see that. Sirius supposed he should have remembered that before. Harry was so completely selfless that he'd probably hand himself straight over to Voldemort if he thought the rest of the wizarding world could be saved if he did. The trouble is, these things didn't always turn out for the best.

Which was exactly was Sirius was afraid of.

    Pumpkin Cottage wasn't too far away. It took Sirius just over a few hours to run in his canine form. However, when he finally found himself on the doorstep, the sun had already set, and night was fast approaching. After making sure no one was about, Sirius transformed, and rapped sharply on the door. 

      After a few seconds of silence, the door flew open. A woman a few years younger than Sirius stood in the doorway, dressed in long blue robes. Her hair was black, but cut fairly short, to her shoulders. Her eyes looked questioningly up at Sirius.

"Sirius," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Vega," he returned, with a slight smile. "How's my favourite sister?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Sirius Black," said Vega. "And, just for the record, I'm your _only _sister."

     Sirius grinned. "I need a place to crash for a while."

"Why not use your own house? Last time I saw you, you were full of how wonderful it was…having a proper home again, and living with Harry and Remus—" She stopped abruptly at the look on her brother's face. "Come on, then. I suppose I'd better let you come in and explain."

A/N: Call the authorities! We have a runaway godfather on the loose! What do you think? Please review! The next chapter won't take so long to do, I promise.


	4. Holding Silence

A/N: Well, everyone, here's chapter 4. Thanks goes out to everyone who reviewed!

Chapter 4; Holding silence

"He _what_?" Katherine exploded. "When I get my hands on him—"

"—After I've killed him," Molly Weasley growled. "I knew he wasn't responsible enough…I never would have let Harry live with him if you hadn't been there, Remus. Imagine if Sirius had left Harry on his own! He never does think…"

"Oh, he thinks, just not rationally." Katherine scowled. "You're not the only one who wouldn't have tolerated Harry in a Sirius-only zone."

     Dumbledore held up one hand, preventing the discussion from continuing. He found it difficult to hide the surprise he felt at the new and unexpected situation. Sirius had been very irrational in his youth, but Dumbledore found he had been mistaken to think that the man was now incapable of still acting on impulse. 

"Remus," he said, addressing the younger man, "does Harry know yet?"

      Remus shook his head. "I only found out myself this morning. I left Harry serving the breakfast, and went up to wake Sirius. Sending Harry up there didn't seem the best solution…you've told everyone about the argument between Sirius and Harry?" Remus inquired, taking a break from his story.

    Dumbledore bowed his head. "Naturally."

"Well, I went up there, and the room was very…tidy; highly unusual for Sirius. Sirius himself was nowhere to be seen, but I thought maybe he'd gone for a walk or something. I turned to leave, but caught sight of a piece of paper on the floor. I picked it up; it was a note."

"What did he say; 'sorry for being so pig-headed again'?" Katherine muttered.

"He actually said that he needed some time away—that he'd be out of the country for several weeks, maybe months. He said nothing about Harry…nothing about telling him not to worry, or to blame himself." Remus paused. "Which rather indicates that he's inclined to blame Harry."

     There was a sharp intake of breath from around the circle. Members of the Order glanced at each other, whispering together softly. Finally Alastor Moody spoke up, his voice gruff.

"What's the plan, Dumbledore?"

       The old man shook his head slowly. "I am unsure of how to act. I would rather Harry be kept in the dark about this for now, and we must organise a search for Sirius."

"How are you going to keep Harry in the dark about this?" Katherine asked. "He's not stupid."

"I am well aware of that. That is why I was rather hoping you could help me." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses. "Perhaps young Harry could receive an invitation to stay with his godmother…tonight?"

"That might not be so brilliant for Potter's emotional state, Dumbldore," Moody said. "I'm sure," he added, after a glare from Katherine, "that he would love a chance to spend more time with his mother's best friend, but let's not forget that—sorry for bringing this up—Greenfield's the mother of the girl he saw die. It's not a pretty connection."

"How's Harry holding up with that?" Arthur asked Remus, his voice concerned.

"Alright, I think. The problem with Harry is that he does tend to bottle all his emotions up, and refuses to let them show. It takes a lot of work to get him to open up. At the beginning of the summer, Sirius very nearly had to threaten to hex his head off to persuade Harry to tell him about a nightmare he had." Remus shrugged. "Outwardly, he seems to be coping."

       Katherine sighed, wiping a stray tear from her cheek. "I don't know, it might actually help if Harry came to stay with me—both of us."

"Katherine, dear, if you are happy to have Harry to stay, I think that's the matter resolved," said Dumbledore kindly, offering Katherine a clean handkerchief. "However, there is still the matter of finding Sirius. I would like Remus to go…Remus, anyone you think would be a great helping in finding him?"

"I'll take Moody, Fletcher, and…Arthur? Are you willing to come?"

     Arthur nodded. "Of course."

"That is our plan resolved, then," said Dumbledore. "I wish the four of you luck."

*               *               *

     Katherine took out her wand, smiling at Harry. "I'll levitate your bags up the stairs," she said, "and show you where you're sleeping. Follow me."

     Harry followed her lead up the stairs, looking around curiously. The house was fairly large, but extremely cosy. He couldn't help but feel slightly confused and disorientated, though. Katherine's appearance that evening had been sudden. Remus hadn't seemed surprised to see her, and Harry had been rushed from the house so quickly that he hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye to Sirius.

Not that he wanted to say goodbye to him.

"Here's your room," Katherine said, unlocking a door. "I can change the colour if you don't like it."

       She opened the door to reveal a large room with crème walls. The carpet was fluffy and blue, matching the bed. A desk stood in one corner, next to a wardrobe. Katherine levitated the bags into the room, and they fell into a heap next to the bed.

"Is it alright? You can have another room if you'd rather—"

"It's fine," Harry told his godmother firmly. "Really."

    Katherine smiled. "Well, if you're sure…" She pointed her wand at the curtains, which flew shut, shrouding the room in darkness. "Get some sleep, Harry; you look like you need it. And don't you dare get up early."

"Where's Chantelle?" Harry asked, looking around the room, as though expecting her to jump out of the wardrobe.

"Staying with a friend of her's. Now, my bedroom's next to the bathroom if you need me at all, alright?"

    Harry nodded, slowly, sitting down on the bed. Katherine watched him for a few moments, wondering if he was alright. He looked up, as if he had suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, and smiled weakly.

"I'll be fine," he said, and Katherine left the room, still wondering.

       Harry sat in the dark for a few minutes after his godmother had left. Something…strange was going on, here. He didn't know Katherine all that well, but he had spent enough time as a young child watching people. He knew something was wrong; her tone and movements said it all. And Remus had seemed tense too…

      Harry got off the unfamiliar bed, crossed the room, and opened the window. The cool night air blew on his face, refreshing his thoughts. Maybe it was just his imagination…

Then again, maybe it wasn't.

     Sighing in frustration, Harry closed the window, and flopped down on the bed again, closing his eyes. Something was definitely up, but he was being kept in the dark about it. Sirius would have told him, only Sirius wasn't speaking to him. Sirius would have told him…Remus would have told him…

_Unless it concerned Sirius. _

    The thought was so sudden and so completely random that Harry started, opening his eyes. It wasn't possible; Sirius was fine. He had seen Sirius himself…

Yesterday.

     Harry shook his head. There was nothing wrong with his godfather; it was just his conscience. But he had to do something. He couldn't just…not speak to his godfather.

*               *               *

      Vega watched her brother flop onto her sofa, his posture as slumped as his expression. She took her place next to him, putting a hand on his arm.

"Sirius, don't you think you should at least talk to Harry?"

"No."

     Vega sighed, frustrated. _Harry's your godson! _she wanted to shout. Of course, she didn't. Nor did she slap him, as she was so badly tempted to. 

"Look, Sirius, he is nearly sixteen; he's right, he's able to make his own decisions," she reasoned. Seeing the furious expression on Sirius' face, she added, "That doesn't mean Harry doesn't need your advice sometimes, but you've got to understand that you can't punish him for making his own choices. He's perfectly capable."

     Sirius stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the wall. Vega resisted the urge to shake her brother. Hard. Preferably until he saw sense. 

      She jumped as a large white owl flew through the open window. Sirius scowled at it, and then at her, as if it was _her _fault someone was sending a letter to him. He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and closed it again, accepting the letter from the owl.

      Vega watched his frown deepen as he read the letter. He made several rude comments, including 'cow', and 'the nerve' before tossing the letter aside, and standing up. 

"I'm going to bed. See you in the morning," he said shortly.

   Vega stared curiously after him, wondering what on earth had made him so short-tempered. Shrugging, she reached over for the letter that he had so carelessly tossed aside, smoothing it out. The snowy owl hooted encouragingly.

Dear Sirius— 

_     I think we both have apologies to make. I'd like to say sorry for arguing with you, and shouting at you—I shouldn't really have, but I just lost my temper. On the other hand, I'm not telling Dumbledore that I'm resigning from the Order. I understand the vow I made, and I intend to stick with it. Just take a moment and think what you would do if I told you to resign. You wouldn't; that's exactly how I feel._

_Anyway, you're probably wondering why I'm writing you a letter, since I live in the same house as you, if you don't already know. I'm staying at Katherine's for a while. She rushed me out of the house so quickly, I didn't have time to say goodbye—Remus said you were in, and that you wouldn't mind. Sorry!_

_Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Harry._

      Ah. So that was why Sirius was so uptight—Harry hadn't been told about his godfather's disappearance, and he was now staying at Katherine's. Vega knew how much her brother detested Katherine—he wouldn't react well to hearing that Harry was staying with her, _and _that she had rushed him out of the house. Vega couldn't tell whether Sirius had forgiven Harry or not, but, whichever, she was fairly certain her brother wouldn't reply to his godson's letter that evening. She picked up a quill and another piece of parchment.

_Dear Harry,_

She paused, unsure of what to say to the fifteen year-old.

This is Sirius' sister writing—Vega. Sirius has…how shall I put it? Sirius has done a runner. He's staying with me for a while; he always was one to run from his problems if he could. I suspect you're probably being kept in the dark about Sirius' disappearance, for fear that you'll think it's your fault. Trust me, it isn't. Sirius is just so pig-headed at times, that even when he knows he's wrong, he won't admit it. He's slightly annoyed at the moment, but I think that's got something to do with the fact that it's Katherine you're staying with. 

     Now, listen, I don't want you blurting out to everyone that you know Sirius is missing, or that you know where Sirius is, because my dear brother will have my head. 

Enclosed is a locket. Sirius has one, and this is my own. We used to use them to get into contact with each other. If you want to speak to Sirius, just hold onto the locket whilst wearing it.

Take care,

Vega Black

 *              *               *

      Harry awoke early the next morning, to a pair of claws walking all over him. His eyes snapped open, and he had to struggle to contain a yell as he found himself face to face with a pair of yellow eyes. 

"Hedwig," he breathed. "Don't scare me like that."

      The snowy owl's only reply was a soft hoot, and the offering of a letter tied to her leg. Harry quickly untied it, and scanned it. His brow furrowed into a frown as he realised what had been wrong with Katherine and Remus the day before.

Sirius had done a runner.

And he hadn't been told.

        That was why he had been rushed from the house without being able to say goodbye to his godfather; Katherine and Remus didn't want him finding that Sirius had gone. Well, well, then.

They thought they knew something he didn't, and were keeping their silence.

He knew that something, and also where Sirius was; neither of which anybody but Harry, Sirius and Vega knew. He could easily play the game.

He could easily hold his own silence.

Slipping the gold locket around his neck, Harry reached for a quill, and a piece of parchment.

Dear Vega,

Thanks very much for the letter—it helps knowing where Sirius is. And, don't worry, no one else will know. Say 'hi' to Sirius for me, and tell him I'm missing him. And thanks for the locket!

Cheers,

Harry

A/N: Well, then. What do you think? Should I stop this now, and the rest of my writing career? Please review!


	5. Disappearing Act

A/N: Well, welcome to chapter 5. Some things are resolved…others just become more complicated. Enjoy, and thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Chapter 5; Disappearing Act

       Harry couldn't resist trying to push his godmother into telling him about Sirius. Although he already knew, it made him uncomfortable knowing something that she thought he didn't. One could argue that he would therefore have to tell Katherine where Sirius was in order to fully relieve his conscience, but Harry kept his word on that one. He didn't say anything about it.

"Katherine," he said, two evenings after receiving the letter from Vega, "do you think Sirius hates me?"

    Katherine started from her position on the sofa. "No—I don't think he could ever hate you, Harry."

"Then why hasn't he written?" Harry pressed.

"He's probably just still a little annoyed." Katherine smiled sadly. "Sirius can hold grudges like no one else."

"I want to apologise," said Harry. "Would you mind very much if I went round there tomorrow to see him?"

    Katherine's head snapped up. "I…er…don't think that's a very good idea, Harry. He might be…er…out."

"Then I'll just write to him tonight to tell him I'm coming."

"He—he might still be annoyed, Harry."

"But I just want to apologise to him," Harry said innocently. "And then he won't be angry any more, will he?"

     Katherine looked unsure, and then suddenly smiled. "Tell you what," she said, "tomorrow you and I will go shopping in Diagon Alley, how's that?"

       Harry shrugged. "Yeah, sure. I just won't go and see Sirius at home tomorrow," he said, standing up. "I think I'll head off to bed now; I'm really tired."

"Okay, sweetie, see you in the morning."

*               *               *__

_James Potter approached Harry, looking perfectly calm, his fingers clasped around his wand. "Harry, I love you—I couldn't have asked for a better son."_

_     Harry swallowed, looking at a strange green object in his hand. "Thanks, Dad. I love you, too." Then he looked up, into his father's soft expression. "I have to do. You understand, don't you?"_

_"I know what has to be done." James turned and walked away again, to stand next to Lily. _

_    Harry turned away, and flung the green jewel down as hard as he could to the ground. Miraculously, perhaps, the stone stayed intact. Harry pulled out his wand, and pointed it at the gem. "[destroy yourself, jewel. No longer may you do harm.]"_

_      There was a huge explosion, half green and half red. Lily and James gripped each other tightly as they were drawn into the explosion, by an invisible force. There was no possible way they could have survived. And they hadn't, for when the smoke cleared, they were gone._

_   Harry had murdered them._

*               *               *

     Harry woke up very suddenly, heart trying to thump its way of his ribcage. His face was covered in cold sweat, and he shook slightly as he tried to slow down his breathing. _It was just a dream. You didn't kill your parents. They died nearly fifteen years ago, at the hands of Lord Voldemort. It wasn't you._

      He kept his eyes shut, although awake, and repeated the thought over and over again in his mind. _It wasn't you…it wasn't you…_

"It wasn't my fault Mum and Dad died," he whispered; loud enough for it to reach his own ears, but hopefully not so loud for Katherine to hear it.

"It most certainly wasn't your fault," came a voice, which definitely wasn't Katherine's. Harry knew that voice. He opened his eyes.

      Sirius leaned over him, frowning slightly. Harry realised dimly that he was no longer in his bed at Katherine's, but somewhere else, on another bed. His glasses were pressed into his hand, and he put them on, his gaze flitting about the room. 

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked.

_He's not angry. That's a good start. Now, how did I get here, and why _isn't_ he yelling at me?_

      Harry sat up. "I'm fine, honestly. What happened? Where am I?"

"At my sister's. And I have no idea what happened—I was getting changed for bed, and next thing I know, you're lying _on _my bed, still sleeping." Sirius raised his eyebrows. "Only thing I've ever known to act like that is when Vega—my sister—or I use our lockets—" He stopped abruptly as his gaze fell on the locket around Harry's neck. "Where," he said, gesturing, "did you get that?"

"Vega sent me her locket," Harry explained, looking down at the chain. "I think I just grabbed hold of it…I didn't know it was going to bring me straight to you…I was asleep, besides that…"

     Sirius frowned again. "You started calling out in your asleep," he said, changing the subject, "are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine," Harry repeated. "It was just a dream—I was being stupid. It was nothing."

     Sirius seemed to know not to push the subject; he stayed silent. Wanting to break the uncomfortable silence that filled the room, Harry spoke, looking up at his godfather.

"Sirius, I'm sorry," he said. "Did you get my letter?"

   Sirius nodded once. "Yeah, and I'm sorry for shouting at you as well. I still don't agree about you being in the Order, but it's your decision, I suppose, like you said." He smiled weakly. "Just don't go throwing yourself into danger—you'll send me to my grave early."

"I don't throw myself into danger; danger throws itself at me!"

 "At least it's not the girls throwing themselves at you…"

"How do you know that?" Harry demanded. "For your information, I have lots of girlfriends…I mean, friends who are girls."

"Been writing to them, have you?" Sirius raised one eyebrow.

"Well, Hermione, Ginny I've been writing to quite a bit, and Cho managed to secure herself a few pieces of my parchment…" Harry grinned. "I just hide their letters from you so you don't feel inclined to answer them for me."

"Cheeky," Sirius said. Then he became serious. "So, tell me, did you just pick up out of Dragonlady's house without telling anyone?"

"Er…yeah," Harry admitted. "I mean, I didn't mean to—"

"Well, since you're here, no reason why you shouldn't stay," Sirius said, grinning slightly. "You better get some sleep whilst you can. Sleep in my bed for tonight—I need to go and get your stuff from Katherine's, alright?"

    Wearily, Harry nodded, collapsing back against the soft pillows, and closing his eyes. "Just don't scare her," he murmured.

"I doubt that anything could scare that woman," muttered Sirius darkly.

*               *               *

      Katherine threw open the door of Dumbledore's office, closely following by Remus. The old man looked up as they came in, smiling pleasantly.

"Ah, Katherine, Remus," he said. "I was just about to contact you. What seems to be the problem?"

     Katherine slammed a hand down on his desk. "Harry's gone," she got out. "Completely vanished—even all his clothes and belongings." She gripped onto Remus for support. "Where is he?"

"Come on, Kath, sit down," Remus said softly. "I'm sure Harry's fine."

   Dumbledore bowed his head. "Sirius has just been in contact. Both he and Harry are safe and well, and, I have reason to believe, they are currently sitting comfortably at home."

    Katherine looked suddenly furious. "Sirius just thought he could take Harry from my own home without telling me? How dare he? He has no r—"

    Dumbledore held up a hand to silence her. "Actually, I believe young Harry had a nightmare last night—nothing serious, mind you—and somehow ended up with his godfather using the necklace Vega Black gave him. Sirius and Harry appear to have then sorted out certain disagreements they had. After that, Sirius left to collect Harry's belongings, and they arrived home this morning."

"But how did Harry get hold of the necklace?" Remus asked, clapping a hand over Katherine's mouth as she started to call Sirius every insulting name she could think of. "He's never met Vega."

     Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, you see, so I've been told by Harry…young Mr. Potter wrote to Sirius, and Vega replied to the letter, as it appears that Sirius was staying with his sister. Vega enclosed the necklace for Harry should he need to get into contact with his godfather. However, what appears to be even more interesting is that Harry knew that Sirius had disappeared—something we tried so carefully to conceal—and also Sirius' whereabouts."

"So both of them are at home?" Remus asked. "And they're both alright?"

"Both in excellent health, and back where they belong," Dumbledore answered. 

"Thank you, Albus," Remus said, leading Katherine out of the room. As soon as the door was shut behind them, Katherine shook his hand off her mouth. 

"I'm coming back with you," she said. "I want to check Harry's alright, and give Black a piece of my mind."

*               *               *

"Sirius!" 

"Hi, Remus," Sirius said, grinning, as he leant against the sitting room's doorframe. "How's it going?"

"Better now you're back," answered Remus. "Harry alright? I heard what happened last night."

"Yeah, he's okay—he's in the garden, I think…" Sirius' grin snapped out like a light as he caught sight of Katherine. "What's _she _doing here?"

"_She _is ready to give you a piece of her mind, Black," Katherine spat. "What were you thinking, just removing Harry from my house in the middle of the night? _Anything _could have happened to him—I thought he'd been kidnapped by Death Eaters!"

"Er…I'll just go and make a drink, shall I?" Remus said nervously, inching towards the kitchen.

"Well, _Greenfield_, for your information, Harry had a nightmare last night, and came to me," Sirius said.

"He could have come to me!"

"Doesn't it say something that he didn't?"

"You're just jealous," Katherine hissed.

     Sirius laughed. "Of what? I think you'll find that _I'm _the one he lives with and _I'm _the one who has full custody of him. I think you'll also find that _I'm _the one he comes to when he's in trouble. If there's any jealousy going on, here, Greenfield, it's on your part."

"As if!"

"Oh, I think you're very jealous," Sirius continued, as though he hadn't heard her. "And why not? I mean, I'm much closer to him that you'll ever be—"

"That's because you never let him come and see me, Black!"

"_That's_ because he's too busy spending time with me!"

"I'm his godmother!"

"I'm his godfather, _and _I have full custody of him!"

_SLAP!_

     The sound of Katherine's hand coming sharply into contact with Sirius left cheek rang sharply through the room. Katherine's eyes flashed.

"I hope I won't be seeing you anytime soon," she said, and left the room. She paused at the kitchen, poking her head in, to see Remus sitting at the table with a glass of pumpkin juice, shaking silently with laughter.

"Remus—I've got to dash; say 'hi' to Harry for me, and tell him I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer. I'm not sure I could stand much more of his legal guardian."

     And then, with a small _POP! _she was gone.

A/N: Any comments you have, please tell me by clicking on that nice little button there!


	6. In the Spotlight

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Chapter 6; In the spotlight

        Remus watched Sirius over his book as the man flipped through _Fortnightly Flying_. It was odd, he thought, how a man who stole his godson's magazines to read could blow up so easily at a woman his own age for no good reason.

    The room was silent, apart from a storm that raged outside, and lamps on the wall dimly lighted it. Lightning flashed, lighting up the room even brighter. Sirius seemed oblivious to the thunder rumbling overhead. Remus cleared his throat.

"Where's Harry?"

     Sirius glanced up at the sound of his godson's name. "Went up to bed after dinner. Said he felt a bit funny."

"I noticed he didn't eat much."

"Probably something that woman gave him." Sirius scowled. 

     Remus didn't need to inquire as to who 'that woman' was. Gently, he said, "Don't you think you're being a little harsh, Padfoot? Katherine cares about Harry as much as you do, but you keep pushing her away. She's got as much right to see Harry as you have, you know."

"I have custody of him," Sirius snapped. "I'm his _godfather_."

"Kath is his godmother."

"Harry's known me for longer, _and _he lives with me. Katherine could have got in touch with him at any time she wanted to, but she only chose to last year. I _couldn't _get in touch with him."

"Yes, but I'm sure Harry wants to see Kath as well as you." Remus held up his hand. "Don't get me wrong; I know Harry loves you more than anyone else in the whole world. But just consider that he may wish to see Katherine occasionally, and you don't have the right to deny him that. You can't keep Harry for yourself."

      Sirius was silent. When he finally spoke, his voice was shaking slightly. "What do you want me to do? Go and apologise to her?"

       Remus let his expression answer for him. Sirius stood up, letting the magazine fall to the floor.

"Fine," he said. "Fine. I will. But if hexes me, you're the one who's going to fix it."

     Remus smiled. "Aren't I usually?" he said. "Go on, Padfoot, if Harry knew, it'd be such a weight off his shoulders. He's got enough on his plate without worrying about you two bickering all the time."

        This seemed to push any doubts out of Sirius' mind, and he disappeared on the spot—hopefully to Katherine's. Remus couldn't hide another smile as he went back to reading his novel. However much they fought, it was obvious how similar they were; even Harry had noticed it, and had voiced his opinions to Remus earlier in the week. He appeared to realise, though, that saying anything of the sort to Katherine or Sirius would send them over the edge.

     Around an hour later, Sirius still hadn't returned, and Remus, seeing that it was past eleven o'clock, made himself a cup of tea, switched out all the downstairs lights, and made his way up the stairs. He drank his tea, got ready for bed, and then made the mistake of looking up at his clock.

The clock was a tradition in wizarding households, and could be very useful. On it was hands with name inscribed on them; Sirius, Harry, Dumbledore and Katherine. Around the edge was locations, such as 'Home', 'Work', and 'School', but also conditions, like 'Danger', 'Warning', and 'Ill'. Sirius' hand hovered next to Katherine's, on 'Making Friends', but it was Harry's hand that caught Remus attention.

      It was spinning back and forth between 'Danger', 'Warning' and 'Ill.' 

Remus yanked open his bedroom door, and threw himself down the hallway, to Harry's room. _Oh, Harry, please be alright…Sirius would kill himself if anything happened to you…_He shoved open the door, and fell into the room, flicking his wand at the light. It came on, bathing the room in a bright glow.

     Harry was seated at his desk, slumped over, obviously having fallen asleep working. He seemed to be fine. Maybe the clock was faulty? But, no…Remus drew closer, his sharp hearing catching a low moan from the fifteen year-old. Harry's breathing came out in short, quick gasps, and his forehead was pressed hard against his forearms. Remus shook his shoulder gently.

"Harry, wake up," he said, his voice soft. "You need to get into bed."

       Harry only let out another moan, and shifted his position slightly. Remus frowned, shaking him more persistently. "Harry!"

"No, please…" Harry murmured. "Leave them, please…" He groaned again.

      It was another nightmare. Dumbledore had asked both he and Sirius if they could allow Harry to wake up naturally when he was having a nightmare, but Remus couldn't stand seeing Harry in pain, and if the clock was telling the truth…

"Harry!" Remus shook him, harder. Harry's eyes snapped open, wide in shock. He closed them again, groaning and putting a hand over his forehead.

"Harry, are you alright?" Remus asked gently. And then, trying to act as though he hadn't seen anything, he added: "Sirius told me you weren't feeling too good after dinner."

"I'm fine," Harry muttered. "Just a dream." He opened his eyes again, squinting at Remus. Remus frowned at the slight unfocus in the teen's green eyes. Harry was pale, but his cheeks were oddly flushed, and he shook as he stood up, taking his hand away from his scar. "I'd better go to bed," he said, turning away. Remus stopped him.

"Stand still," he ordered, feeling Harry's forehead. It was very warm. Harry tried to step away, but Remus stopped him, taking out his wand. He muttered a few words, and the number '103.5' shot out of it, hovering next to the teen.

"I told you; I'm _fine_."

"You are _not _fine, young man," Remus said. "You have a very high temperature…"

"It's the summer. It's hot."

 "_I _don't have a temperature of over one hundred degrees. Have you been sick?"

      Harry was silent. Remus went pale.

"Harry, you _haven't _thrown up, have you?" He had a feeling he already knew the answer.

"Only once." Harry shrugged. "Remus, honestly, it's no big deal."

"Why didn't you tell us before? Look, get into bed, and I'll go and get some water for you, alright?"

     Harry nodded slowly. Remus left the room, returning some minutes later with a tall glass of water, to find Harry in his pyjamas, lying in bed. He held the water out to the teen. 

"Feeling any better?"

"I was fine to start with, Remus, honestly."

    Remus ignored Harry's words, getting out his wand again, and checking his temperature. 104 degrees. It was going up. This was serious.

"Does your stomach hurt?"

"Only a bit." Harry sighed. "Remus, it's probably nothing; I'm just tired…don't tell Sirius, he'll do his nut…"

"Sirius is going to want to know, Harry…I think it's just a mild case of food poisoning—you'll need to have some fever-reducing potion, and we'll have to hope it brings your temperature down…"

     Harry seemed to have finally resigned that he was ill; he nodded, and turned onto his side. "Where's Sirius?" he asked softly. 

"Apologising to Katherine. I'll go and get him now; I won't be two minutes."

       Remus left the room again, and went downstairs to the living room, where he performed a quick charm on the still-roaring fire, and stuck his head in.

"Katherine Greenfield."

      Luckily, Katherine and Sirius were both near the fire when he appeared. They didn't notice him at first; Katherine stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at Sirius, who scowled just as fiercely back at her. 

"You're the one who's supposed to be taking care of him, like you seem so fond of reminding me, and you're also the one who started ranting at him, and then ran away," Katherine snapped. Sirius threw his hands up in the air. 

"Oh, that's rich coming from someone who didn't bother to contact him in fourteen years, and—"

   Remus cleared his throat. Katherine and Sirius turned.

"Remus! Thank goodness you're here—remove him from my sight!" Katherine pointed at Sirius.

"Well, you're the one who started arguing!"

"You're the one who came over here in the first place!"

"Look!" Remus called over their shouting. "Will you two be quiet for thirty seconds!"

     The two fell silent, but still glared at each other out of the corner of their eyes.

"Harry is ill," Remus stated quietly. 

     Katherine was the first to speak. "Oh, what's wrong with him? He's alright, isn't he?"

"I think it's just mild food poisoning," said Remus, nodding. "It's nothing too serious, but he does have a high fever."

"Food poisoning?" Sirius pointed at Katherine. "This is all your fault!"

"Excuse me? He's been with you for nearly twenty-four hours! It must have been something you gave him!"

"Stop it! Kath, do you think we should get a doctor?" Remus asked.

"No, but he needs his temperature brought down, and he might get dehydrated if he starts being sick." Katherine frowned. "Look, I'll come, if you move your head out of the way."

    Remus obliged, and Katherine came through the Floo, closely followed by Sirius. Sirius turned to face Katherine.

"This can't be my fault," he said. "Harry's hardly eaten anything since he got back here."

"Well, don't try to blame me for this, Black," Katherine hissed. "Don't you _dare_. Or I might just hex you into next week."

"Er…Harry? Ill? Upstairs?" Remus tried, and failed, to distract them.

"I'm _scared_," said Sirius sarcastically. "You couldn't even make an Auror, Greenfield."

"Oh yes, I remember perfectly; Sirius Black, who got into the Auror program no problem, where I took up a job in the Ministry's law enforcement. You didn't even try to make me feel better."

"That's because every time I brought up the subject, you snapped at me!"

"Well, I bet you're glad now, aren't you, Black? You not only have the Defence Against the Dark Arts job at Hogwarts, you also have custody of Harry, and full control of when I can see him. You have money, a job, the Ministry tripping over themselves to please you, Harry, a large house, and happiness. In the last year, I've lost my husband _and _my daughter. All I have left now are Chantelle and Harry. And you seem determined to keep one of those from me."

"Harry is ill upstairs!" Remus shouted. Sirius and Katherine stopped, shocked at Remus raising his voice. A voice came from the doorway.

"Downstairs, actually."

    The three of them turned to see Harry standing in the doorway. He was still in his pyjamas, with his dressing gown over the top. His feet were bare. 

"Harry!" Remus was the first to find his voice. "You should be in bed!"

"I was…I heard shouting…" Harry trailed off, glancing at his godparents.

     Sirius strode over, and tilted Harry's chin up. "You okay? What's up?"

  Harry shrugged, turning away. Sirius grasped his arm. "Are you annoyed with me for some reason?"

"He's probably blaming you for speaking to me like you did," came Katherine's icy voice.

    Harry's head jerked up. "Don't flatter yourself," he said. "You stand in the same place as Sirius does right now. You spoke to Sirius just the way he spoke to you. Is it impossible for you to be civil to each other, at least when I'm within earshot?" 

    Remus stepped forward. "Come on, Harry, you need a fever-reducing potion, and you need rest."

"I'll help," Sirius said quickly.

"And me," said Katherine.

    Harry shook his head, looking straight at Remus. "I don't want anything to do with either of them until they've apologised to each other."

    Remus thought he was asking something of a near-miracle. 

*               *               *

       Not quite. But things didn't go exactly as Harry wanted them to, either. 

He wasn't ill for very long, thanks to Remus' expert care. After three days, he was up and about, expressing a keen interest in food. Katherine was still over frequently, much to Harry's delight, and Sirius didn't try and stop her, either. Both of them were reasonably civil to each other, meaning, in this case, that they avoided each other if possible. Katherine took to coming over nearly every lunchtime, and Sirius seemed to suddenly need to 'go for a walk' around that time. It wasn't the best of arrangements, but Harry had enough sense to realise that things weren't going to get much better, however much he wanted them to. 

And he wanted them to very much. But for the moment, everything was settling down. The problems only arose when Harry's birthday came up at the end of July.

*

TBC.

*

A/N: So, what does happen on Harry's birthday? I think it's safe to point out that you aren't going to expect it….Please review!


	7. Flying Sparks

A/N: Well, yes, let's all now admit that it's been a _very _long wait…I don't have an excuse, other than it's finding the time to write…I've been working on several huge original pieces, which took up a major chunk of my time, but they're completed now, so, on with this story! Enjoy!

_Chapter 7; Flying Sparks_

"Hey, are you going to get up, or do I need to throw you out of the window again?"

       Somewhere within the depths of his dreams, Harry heard a voice. His brain wasn't working. Get…throw…window…again? 

"Hello? The lights aren't on and nobody seems to be at home."

        He stirred slightly, moving his head a fraction of an inch towards his pillow, away from the voice. He thought it was Sirius, but he couldn't be sure.

"Come on, sleepyhead, it's past ten o'clock. Remus is cooking breakfast, and I doubt you want it burnt."

"Donwanbreakfas." Harry turned over, pulling the duvet up to his ears. 

"What was that, Sleeping beauty? I didn't quite catch it."

       Harry finally blinked, opening his eyes blearily. Sirius' face swum into view, grinning slightly.

"Good morning. Hadn't you better get up?"

"Morning, Sirius." Harry sat up slowly, reaching for his glasses. He rubbed the back of his neck, and yawned, too sleepy to frown at Sirius' smirking face. 

"Come on, get up and get dressed; Remus is doing breakfast as we speak, and, personally, I don't like my eggs overdone."

"I'm getting up, I'm getting up," Harry moaned, sinking until he was lying down again. "I'm just tired."

"Why…?" Comprehension appeared to dawn. "Harry, I've told you that you can do your homework during the day; you don't need to do it at night."

      Harry shrugged, yawning again. "Old habits die hard," he said simply. 

"Well, you're paying for it now." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Up. Shower. Dress. Downstairs in ten minutes."

       And so, twelve minutes later, Harry came downstairs, still yawning, and still sleepy. Strangely enough, everywhere was quiet; he couldn't hear the usual playful arguments of his godfather and Remus, and WWW wasn't blasting out either. Harry paused outside the closed kitchen door, frowning slightly. What was going on? Was something wrong? _But it can't be…Sirius seemed happy enough…not much could have happened since then…_

  Still frowning, Harry pushed open the kitchen door.

The frown disappeared. His eyes widened, and the breath caught in his throat.

      Breakfast was already on the table, and Remus was just pouring tea. A large banner was hung above the table, flashing different colours. _Sweet Sixteen_, it read. Harry's eyes fell on the man sitting underneath it, who was grinning at his godson's startled face. Harry scrambled around for something to say.

"I wasn't aware you were that young," he said, finally.

       Remus laughed, and Sirius stood up. "Don't you be so cheeky," he said, but he was still smiling, his grin lighting up his whole face. He came over, putting his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Happy birthday. How does it feel to be the big one-six?"

"Better than being the big six-oh, like certain other people," Harry replied.

          Remus laughed again, but Sirius still smiled. "Now, now, Harry, it's not nice to be nasty to poor Remus, who can't defend himself."

   Remus raised his eyebrows. "Now, now, Harry, you're not allowed to be nasty to dogs. They might bite."

     Sirius bared his teeth. Then he steered his godson over to the table, pushing him down into a seat, in front of the biggest plate. "Come on. Eat. We've got lots to do."

"Is that right?"

"Afraid so." Sirius sat himself down to Harry's left, and Remus on his right. Harry picked up his knife and fork.

"Why? What's happening?"

"Well, we've arranged a little…_gathering_…"

"Meaning?"

"Well, all the Weasleys available, Hermione, and _Katherine_'s coming over, and then you've got presents—"

     Harry choked slightly on his scrambled egg, reaching for his glass of water.

"_Presents_?" he asked.

     Sirius frowned. "Hey, I haven't been that bad…I got you one last year, and the year before…"

"It was more the plural that I objected to."

       Something dark crossed Sirius' features. "Well, this year you're going to have a proper birthday…and that includes _presents._"

"But—"

"No buts. _I'm _the guardian…_I _decide what we do. Got it?"

      Harry grinned.

"Got it."

*               *               *

"Oi! Harry! Over here!"

     Harry threw the Quaffle to Ron, grinning as his friend put it in the hoops. He saluted down to Hermione and Ginny, who were sitting on the ground below. Charlie, who was playing also, shook his head. 

"Stop flirting with the ladies, and play, Potter," he said.

     Harry turned on his broom. "But…I wasn't…"

"I know, but caught your attention, didn't it?" Charlie laughed, and did a loop around the opposite goals. 

      Katherine stood in the kitchen, watching them play. She turned to Sirius, smiling slightly.

"It's wonderful to see him so happy," she said, quietly.

     Sirius nodded. "He deserves it more than anyone. He's been through so much."

"Yes, well…" Katherine's voice was almost a whisper. "We all have, haven't we?"

"But he…Voldemort…sometimes I wonder how he copes."

"He's strong. Stronger than the rest of us." Katherine's voice caught in her throat. "I'm…I don't know. He saw people _die_—people he knew…people he loved…and here I am, unable to even…" A single tear ran down her face. "…I can't believe I'm even talking to _you_, of all people, about this."

"Because I know how you feel," Sirius said.

"Yes, but you…_Black_, of all people…" A few more tears leaked Katherine leaned against the counter top. 

"No, go on. Trust me…"

"Well…I…I feel so guilty, because here I am, and I…oh God, I miss Jess so much…."

Sirius stepped forward, putting his arms around her. She buried her face into her shoulder.

"This isn't how it's supposed to be," she whispered. "We're supposed to ignore each other, hate each other…argue, but not comfort each other…"

"Since when have I played by the rules?" he asked her, rubbing her back, as she started shaking. "Come on, it's all right…"

"She's dead, Sirius, and there's nothing I can do about…it…"

       Sirius pulled back a little, taking Katherine by the shoulders. "Look, you've lost her, it's going to be painful. But you'll get through it. I promise."

"Since when were you so caring?" Katherine asked softly. 

"Since when did you stop screaming at me?"

         Katherine leaned forward slightly, and then stopped. Sirius leaned forward as well. Suddenly, without warning, his lips were on hers, kissing her gently, hugging her close to his own body. It felt so good…just like when they were at school…just as if they were teenagers again…

"Sirius," she said suddenly, pulling back. "This isn't right. We both know that. We…you shouldn't have…"

"It was right first time. _We_."

"You're the one who tried to kiss me!"

"It takes two to tango, Greenfield. You can't blame me or something both of us did."

"I can blame you for choosing that moment, Black. You chose it when I was upset…a-and vulnerable…"

"I didn't intend for it to happen! It just _did_. Besides, was it that bad? Because personally I quite enjoyed it."

"Well, that's just you, isn't it? Obnoxious and shallow."

"_I'm_ shallow? This is coming from the person who just…when she was supposedly upset about her daughter!"

"Oh, so now this is _my_ fault? Isn't it always? 'Me, myself and I'—that's all you're about, isn't it, Black?"

"That is _not _fair. I love Harry more than anything in the world…I'd die for him, and I've actually got friends…"

"What, and I haven't?"

"If you have, I'm surprised. The way you treat people…"

"The way _I—_"

"Will you both _please_ be quiet?"

        Recognising the voice with dread, the two of them turned. Harry was standing there, rubbing the back of his neck, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"I thought you two had agreed to stop arguing?" he said. His voice was quiet. 

Dangerously quiet.

"It was—" Katherine and Sirius started at the same time.

"I don't care who it was!" Harry snapped. "But I'd appreciate if you could both stop it…today, of all days!"

"Harry—"

"Sirius," Harry said, stepping back, "I don't want to hear it. I want you two to get along. And if you can't do that…I…I don't want you here. I'm sorry."

     They watched him get a glass of water in silence, and then take it outside. Sirius turned to Katherine, opening his mouth.

"I don't want to hear it, either, Black. But can you—we—please try and get on, at least for his sake today?"

      Sirius nodded. "I-I've never heard him snap at me like that."

"He's got a limit, too. He's not unshakable."

      Sirius looked out of the window, watching as he gave Ginny the glass of water. Ron said something to him, and he nodded, his face serious. Remus, who was sitting under the tree nearby, looked up, talking to Harry. He shrugged, and a few seconds later, Remus poked his head around the door. 

"I'm taking Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny out onto the field, all right? Charlie, Fred and George are staying here. Keep an eye on the latter two. They're likely to blow up the house, given the chance."

*               *               *

"They're driving me up the wall!" 

Harry collapsed onto the grass, shaking his head. Ginny smiled in amusement.

"Hey, it can't be worse than having Hermione to stay, when she and Ron…urgh. Let's not go down there. I caught them in a room together. They're bribing me with chocolate."

"What they were…?" 

       Ginny frowned, and then realised what he was implying. "Oh no! Nothing as bad as that. It would take a lot more to bribe me _then_." She grinned mischievously. "Wonder what they're up to now."

"Dunno…I saw them sneaking off towards the trees, but I think Remus went after them…" Harry leaned back, until he was lying down on the grass. "I'm surrounded by people who are either arguing or kissing! When I went to get you a glass of water earlier, Katherine and Sirius were arguing, and…well, it seemed to be something about them kissing." He rolled his eyes. "Promise me you're not about to either slap me or kiss me."

"I'm not about to, but it could always be arranged…"

     Harry shook his head. "I had no idea you were such a flirt!"

"And I had no idea you were so shy…" Ginny's lips twitched at Harry's face. "I'm just kidding. I promise I'm not going to blow up at you…or lure you into my bedroom…" She lay down next to him, turning on her side so she could talk. "So what happened after you walked in on them?"

     He turned on his side as well. "Well, I just snapped…er, probably just made things worse…" He blushed. "I was just so…I dunno, pissed off, I guess, because they'd agreed not to fight and everything, and then they chose today to do it…Does that sound really selfish?"

"Not at all! You're the most unselfish person I know!" Ginny shook her head. "You're entitled to a proper birthday as much as anyone else."

"But sometimes…sometimes I don't think I am. I mean, I didn't save Jessica, did I? I didn't save anyone."

"You saved your godparents. And everyone else in the castle, Harry." Ginny reached out, taking his hand in hers. "I'm sure Jessica wouldn't want you to blame yourself. Sorry if that sounds clichéd. But it really wasn't your fault. And you shouldn't let yourself think that. Have you told Sirius and Remus how you feel?"

      Harry shook his head. "Are you joking? I'd never know what to say."

"You just told me, didn't you?"

"Yes, but you're different…you…I dunno. I'll be able to bribe you with chocolate as well."

"That's what you think."

       He gazed at her imploringly, sitting up to look down at her. "Please, Gin…just, keep quiet about it, all right? It's not that important. Everyone's got better things to worry about."

     Ginny nodded. "All right…but, you know, one of these days I'm going to become an Agony aunt…and I'll know _everyone's _secrets…"

"You should see the wicked expression on your face now," Harry said, grinning slightly. "You look like a little devil…especially with the red hair…"

"Well, that's the thing, you see…everyone thinks I'm so sweet and innocent, when really I'm just a tiger waiting to pounce!" She leapt at him, sending him back down onto the ground. They were both laughing.

"Now you look like a baby tiger…" Harry said.

     She slapped him around the face, lightly. He rolled his eyes. 

"Thought you weren't going to slap me?"

"Things change." She smiled.

"Potter, get your hands off my sister _now_."

        Harry sat up very suddenly at Ron's voice, completely forgetting than Ginny was lying on his chest. She clutched hold of his shirt; afraid she would fall over, sending them both back down again. They started to laugh again. Ron, however, didn't quite look so amused.

"Ginny…you…my best friend…_urgh_."

"Ron, we weren't—" Harry started, but Ginny cut across him. 

"Oh, yes, Ron," she said, "Harry and I were just getting close when you arrived. Now, if you don't mind, can you go somewhere _else_, so we can get back to what we were doing?"

     Ron's eyes grew wide. "If you think I'm going to leave you two _alone_…"

"Oh, Ron," Hermione put a hand on his arm, "she's joking. They were just having fun. Don't jump to conclusions."

"What makes you think I was joking?" Ginny said dramatically. "I'll have you know Harry just said I was a real tiger."

    Hermione rolled her eyes. "Because I know both of you too well. That just isn't your style, Ginny. And Harry's too shy to do it out here."

   Harry raised his eyebrows at this. "Is that so?"

"If it isn't, then prove it!" Hermione challenged.

    Harry and Ginny glanced at each other, and then look away, laughing. 

"All right, Hermione; you were right. I am too shy…but only because I know Ron will give me a black eye…"

      If looks could kill, Harry would have died right there.

*               *               *

A/N: Well, hope it was all right—it wasn't overly long in respect of how long you've all had to late, but, well, things are starting to heat up. I'll get to work on chapter 8 soon…Please review!!!


	8. I'm dreaming of a dark graveyard

A/N: I seem to have a nasty habit of making you all wait ages for chapters. Eek! Sorry – here's chapter 8, which is pretty long, so don't kill me…

Chapter 8; I'm dreaming of a dark graveyard…

    Harry was running along a cold, stone passage. He stopped at a loud thud behind him, and turned sharply, but it was too dark to see. Automatically, he took a step back…right into something.

"You killed me, Harry."

     He recognised that voice. Whirling around on the spot, he came face to face with someone he'd thought he'd never see again. 

      Jessica.

But she didn't look like Jessica. Her eyes were cold and hard, glaring at him, showing none of the warmth he'd come to love the year before. Her skin was deathly white, and her red hair hung down like blood against her face. A strange white light seemed to surround her. His breath caught in his throat.

"You killed me, Harry," she repeated. "It's your fault I'm dead."

       Harry took another step backwards…and hit something else.

"You murdered me too, Harry."

Harry didn't need to turn around to know it was Cedric. He shook his head. 

"No…it was Voldemort—"

"You led us into danger, Harry."

"It's all your fault."

"_Wands out, do you reckon?"_

_"We're your friends, Harry."_

_"Not Harry—please, not Harry!"_

_"Kill the spare."_

_"Is she your girlfriend, Harry? Shall I kill her?"_

_"Stand aside girl—"_

_"Sirius! Katherine!"_

_"Please—have mercy—"_

_"Blood of the enemy…"_

_"Cedric's dead!"_

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

*

Harry woke suddenly, breathing hard, sweat soaking his body. The sheets were tangled at his feet, and he was shaking. His head hurt. His scar, thank God, didn't.

   Heart still racing, he sat up in bed, and reached for the glass of water on his bedside. There was none there. He sighed, flopping back against his pillows, trying to forget the dream. He'd had them less and less as the summer wore on, but when he did, they always stuck. And they were always the same. Always Jessica. Always Cedric. Sometimes Hagrid. Once even Sirius, and Sirius wasn't dead.

Yet.

    Everything always came down to this. Whatever Sirius said, Harry knew his godfather was putting his life on the line for him by having him in the house. Sirius said there wasn't much threat anyway, because the area was so well protected. Harry wasn't fooled. There was always some threat, some risk. And if anyone did attack, Sirius would die before letting anything happen to Harry. Which didn't make Harry himself too happy.

       He shook his head. His heart had calmed down, but he was still shaking. _For God's sake, Potter, pull yourself together. It was a stupid dream. Nothing more. Go back to sleep._

     Harry snorted inwardly. Yeah, like that was going to happen. He was too thirsty. 

_Go and get a glass of water, then. Or are you too lazy?_

Sighing, he slowly got out of bed, reaching for his glasses, careful to make no noise. Sirius was such a light sleeper, he'd wake even if Harry's bed creaked. Trying to see through the dark, he stumbled across the room towards the door, out into the hallway, and down the stairs, to the kitchen. He fumbled for the switch.

    Bright light flooded the room. He shielded his eyes from the worst of it, making his way to the sink. His throat was screaming.

    It shut up when Harry filled up a glass with water, and held it to his lips, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat, to his stomach. He leaned against the kitchen countertop, closing his eyes as he finished the glass.

"You okay?"

        Harry opened his eyes at the voice. Sirius was standing in the doorway, his dressing gown slung over the top of his pyjamas. He was frowning—whether in concern or annoyance at being woken; Harry couldn't tell.

"Fine," Harry said shortly, turning his back on his godfather, and turning on the tap again, washing out his glass.

"Why are you up so late?" Sirius pressed.

"Wanted a glass of water."

"What woke you in the first place?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" Harry snapped, whipping around. His voice was low, but there was a definite edge of irritation caught in it. "I woke up, I was thirsty, I came down for a drink. End of story. I'm sorry if I woke you. All right?"

"Okay, I'm just worried about you," Sirius said. His frown deepened. "You sure you're okay?"

"I just told you; I'm fine."

"Are you _annoyed _at me for some reason?"

"Oh, I wonder why," Harry said sarcastically, turning to the sink again. 

"This isn't anything to do with earlier, is it? When Katherine and I argued?"

"I don't see that there's anything new there. I mean, you two always do it. I don't know why I ever expect you to stop; least of all, on my birthday."

"Harry, look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

         Harry had heard his voice getting closer, but he didn't expect the hand on his shoulder. He jumped violently, the glass falling out of his hands, and crashing to the floor. It shattered, glass spraying violently in every direction. Harry felt something cut into his ankle, and then warm liquid trickling down his foot, but he didn't look down. 

"Sorry," he murmured. "I'll clear it up."

      At the Dursleys, something like that would have earned him a slap from Uncle Vernon, or no meals for a week, but Sirius shook his head. 

"You're bleeding."

"Doesn't matter."

"Yes it does. Stay still." Sirius bent down, taking his wand from his dressing gown pocket. He muttered an incantation Harry couldn't hear, but he felt something wedge itself out of his ankle, and, when he looked down, there was no mark. There was no pain. Sirius waved his wand at the glass, and it flew back together. He handed it back to Harry, and then stood up.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

"Sorry for jumping."

"Did I really scare you that much?"

          Harry shrugged. "I wasn't expecting it. Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry. It doesn't matter. Easily fixed."

"Sorry."

     Sirius rolled his eyes, and then pushed himself up onto the countertop. He sat there, twisting his hands. "And _I'm _sorry about earlier," he said. "It was uncalled for. We can't help it."

"You two kissed, didn't you?"

     Sirius frowned. "How do you know that?"

"I saw pretty much everything—I walked in just as you both did it. Wasn't a pleasant site."

"Very funny." Sirius sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't expect anymore of it. I still can't believe I did that."

"Weren't you two Hogwarts sweethearts, though? Weren't you going to get married?"

"You've been talking to Moony, haven't you? It's a long story."

"I'm not planning to go back to sleep."

      Sirius paused, and then jumped down from the work surface. "Come on, then, we'll go into the lounge. It's cold out here."

       Once in the sitting room, Harry settled on the sofa. Sirius tossed him a blanket lying at one end, and then sat down himself, in the armchair. 

"It's odd talking about it," he said. "It seems like a century ago…

"We first met in first year, of course; we were in the same year, and both Gryffindors. The whole lot of us were friends; James, Moony, Wormtail and I, and then there was Lily, a girl called Hannah, and Katherine. We were a small year, but all the parents were starting to keep their children at home. They didn't think they were safe at school.

"We were just friends—until we hit fourth year. There was a Christmas party, and…well, there was alcohol. James and Lily seemed to be having their own private 'conversation' in one corner of the common room, Hannah and Remus were doing a bit of quiet flirting of their own, and Peter had already buggered off to bed. That left Katherine and I."

         Here Sirius sighed, letting his gaze drift up towards the ceiling. Harry sat perfectly still, transfixed. It was a few minutes before his godfather continued. 

"We were both smashed—and I do mean _smashed_. By midnight, I'd already been involved in around six drinking games, and I'd won every one. Katherine wasn't much better off. I won't go into detail, but the long and short of it was, I woke up next to Katherine in her bed. I did it at fourteen. We're lucky we weren't caught, or that Katherine fell pregnant. 

"After that, we couldn't look each other in the eye for months. I eventually confided in James what I'd done, and I'm fairly certain Katherine told Lily. They schemed together, and, in June that year, they locked us in an empty classroom together, and we were forced to talk. We ended up kissing. We couldn't deny that we were attracted to each other."

"Did you go out?"

"Yeah, we went out right through school—we were just as close as James and Lily were, if not closer. The summer after we finished school, I proposed to her. She said yes."

"You two were _engaged_?" Harry raised his eyebrows. 

Sirius nodded wearily.

"'Fraid so. However, James, Katherine and I all went into the Auror program. Shortly before your parents got married, the results came out. James and I had passed with flying colours; Katherine had failed. She tried to pretend she didn't care, but I could tell she did. I talked to her, or tried to, anyway. She pushed me away at every opportunity. The only reason she hadn't passed was that she just couldn't bring herself to kill anyone. We used to have target practise; when all she had to hit was a dartboard, she was fine. When the dartboards changed to pictures of Death Eaters, she just couldn't do it. Her percentage dropped like hell. But James and I knew that in order to survive against Death Eaters, you often had to kill. That's why we passed.

"But Kath just wouldn't listen to me. She told me I was gloating, even when I offered to help her try again. One evening, she just lashed out at me, screaming she didn't need my help, or words to that effect, anyway. She told me ever since the results had been published, all I'd done was boast about it to her, and lorded it over her. I couldn't understand where she was coming from. She said some very harsh things to me, and I, in turn, hit viciously back. We both said a lot of things we shouldn't have. And then she threw her engagement ring in my face, and ran out into the night. Lily came round to collect her belongings from my flat. The next time I saw Kath was at your christening, but we didn't speak. There was nothing left to say."

"You seem to have a lot to say to each other now," Harry commented dryly. 

    Sirius shrugged. "We just don't get on, anymore."

"But last year—when I met her—you were defending her."

"I hoped we might get things back on track. As you can see, we didn't. To be honest, I'm glad. If I had a girlfriend, I might spend less time with you."

"Don't feel you can't get into a relationship because of me." Harry's voice was quiet. "It's fine, honestly."

"If I find someone, I'll let you know." Sirius winked, but Harry could tell he was still lost in memories of the past. Suddenly, though, he seemed to snap out of it, and he got up, coming to sit next to Harry on the sofa. "Now, are you going to tell me why you were awake in the first place?"

            Harry shook his head. "It was stupid. Nothing to worry about."

"You weren't up doing your homework, then?" Sirius frowned when Harry shook his head again. Then realisation dawned on his face. "You had a nightmare, didn't you?"

"No."

"Liar. I've told you to come and tell me when that happens."

"Sirius, it's nothing big. Seriously, it didn't have anything to do with Voldemort. Just…look, it's nothing."

"It's something to me. Now spill."

"It was just Jessica and Cedric…" Harry trailed off. He shouldn't be telling Sirius this. Then again, he didn't know why he didn't just tell his godfather straight out. Sirius wanted to know. But it had nothing to do with Voldemort. Sirius didn't need to be bothered with stuff like that. "There were kissing," he invented quickly.

      Sirius raised his eyebrows. 

"And…" Harry fumbled around for a lie. "And then Katherine kissed Cedric, and then _you_ kissed Katherine, and, well, you were all being sluts, to be honest."

   Sirius' eyebrows relaxed, and Harry silently breathed a sigh of relief. He'd bought it. 

"Come on, it's three o'clock in the morning," his godfather said, glancing at the clock on the wall. "You need to sleep."

"So do you," Harry protested. He pulled the blanket tighter around him. "Can't we just sit here and talk?"

"Scared you'll fall asleep—and see me kissing…McGonnagall this time?" Sirius said dramatically. Harry let out a soft laugh. 

"Can't you tell me about a joke you played on the teachers at school?" he asked. 

"'Spose so." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Seeing as I'm obviously not going to get you to bed…"

      Satisfied he'd successfully diverted his godfather's attention, Harry settled down again; ready to hear about Sirius as a wild and unruly teenager.

*

"Don't you think we should get them up? It's past midday."

"They'll wake up when they're ready. They look so peaceful, though, both of them." Remus smiled, flicking his wand at the sink. "They were probably up all night talking."

      Katherine stared at the closed kitchen door, as though willing Harry and Sirius to come walking through. "It's really irresponsible of Sirius—keeping Harry up all night. He's only sixteen; he needs to sleep occasionally."

"To be fair to Sirius, it was probably Harry keeping Sirius up all night."

"Then Sirius shouldn't have allowed it."

        Remus shrugged. "Sometimes Harry has trouble sleeping. Sirius keeps him company. It's either Harry stays awake by himself, or Sirius stays with him. Sirius prefers the latter."

"Why don't you give him a sleeping potion? He'd sleep well then."

"Those things are dangerous, you know. He could become addicted to them."

"I suppose so." Katherine turned her head to look out of the window. It had been raining the night before. The Quidditch pitch was wet and muddy. "Is Sirius still staying at Hogwarts?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Sirius." She looked back at Remus. "Is he staying on as the Defence teacher at Hogwarts?"

            Remus nodded. "He wants to keep an eye on Harry. I don't think the boy realises how much Sirius worries about him."

    Katherine said nothing to this. She changed the subject. "Have you told…Harry about…about the—the funeral next week? Jessica's funeral?" 

   Remus didn't consol her. He knew she didn't want the pity. Instead, he shook his head. "Sirius said he's going to tell him. I don't think he has, yet. He's a bit worried about how Harry will take it."

"What do you mean?"

    He sighed. "Harry will come, don't get me wrong, but he'll start blaming himself something chronic again. He did that at the end of term, and it's taken ages just to persuade him that it was Voldemort who killed her. Sirius is just worried it will undo all our hard work."

"Or he just doesn't want Harry to spend time with me—even over Jessica's death!"

"Kath, calm down. He'll tell Harry. Eventually."

"Tell me what?"

       Wincing, Remus and Katherine turned around, to see Harry standing in the doorway, a black dog at his heels. The dog cocked his head, silently questioning Remus.

"Tell me what?" Harry repeated. He came into the room a little further, leaving Sirius room to transform. He turned around to face his godfather. "Sirius?"

"Don't look at me; I don't know what they were talking about." Sirius raised his hands, as if in surrender. 

"Has there been another attack?" Harry asked, slowly looking back at Remus and Katherine. "The Weasleys? They're all right? And Hermione?"

"They're fine, Harry," said Remus. "Promise."

"Then what aren't you telling me? Does Sirius know?"

"Oh, Sirius knows," Katherine said, crossing her arms. "And _Sirius _has neglected to tell you."

       Harry frowned. "What? Sirius?"

"I told you; I don't know what they're talking about."

"Perhaps now's not the best time—" Remus started.

"Oh, you might as well know," Katherine cut in. "Seeing as your godfather _obviously_ isn't going to tell you…it's Jessica's funeral on Tuesday."

      Harry's face remained expressionless, but his face drained of colour. Slowly, he turned around to face Sirius. 

"Just when were you planning to tell me?" he asked. His voice was soft. Dangerously soft. 

"I was going to tell you soon," Sirius insisted, shooting glares in Katherine's direction. "But wait until your birthday was over, until the right moment came up—"

"You know what? I don't want to hear it." Harry shook his head, seemingly having finally given up. He pushed past Sirius, and a few seconds later, they heard his footsteps on the stairs, and his bedroom door slam. 

"Why the _hell_ did you tell him?" Sirius exploded. "The last thing he needs is a funeral."

"So you _weren't _going to tell him." Katherine looked triumphant, but her tone was uncertain. She hadn't expected Harry's reaction. 

"I _was_—but when the right moment came. Do you have _no_ respect for his feelings?"

"Of course I do—"

"You know, Katherine, I don't think you do. Whatever you say to him seems to either send him over the edge, get him hating me, or both. Why don't you leave?"

"I don't want to."

"Excuse me? I believe this is _my _house."

"Sirius, I don't think it's necessary to—"

"Stay out of this, Remus," Sirius growled. "Greenfield, just leave. _Now._ I'm going to try and remedy some of the damage you've done."

*

"Harry? Harry, come on, talk to me."

          Sirius knocked again. It was now late evening, and Harry still wasn't answering any of his calls. Around two o'clock, Remus had tried, and, when he had received no answer, had left lunch outside Harry's door. The food was still untouched. 

"Harry? I've said I'm sorry. I was really going to tell you. Can I come in?"

        When there was still no answer, Sirius turned the handle and pushed open the door anyway. The room was shrouded in darkness. There was a lump on the bed. 

"Harry?" Sirius asked quietly. 

        Still no answer.

"Harry, I know you're not asleep. You're such a light sleeper." Nothing. "Well, if you won't talk to me, I'll just have to talk to you."

"You don't have to."

      The voice was so quiet that Sirius wasn't sure he'd heard properly. "Harry?"

The lump moved, and Sirius could see his godson sitting up in bed. 

"Harry, look, I'm sorry—"

"I know—I'm sorry for being short with you earlier—"

"Don't worry about it." Sirius was just relieved Harry wasn't angry with him. "Have you been up here all day?"

      Harry nodded. "Sorry—I just needed some time alone…"

"It's fine, but you haven't eaten a lot…haven't eaten anything, actually…"

"Wasn't hungry."

"Do you want anything now?"

"No, thanks."

        They lapsed into silence. Then after a few minutes, Harry spoke.

"Have you made it up with Katherine yet?" he asked. "Didn't you two have an argument downstairs?"

"Like you said last night; nothing new."

"Will you go and talk to her?"

"Now?"

"Please?"

        Sirius couldn't say no. He nodded. 

"All right, then. I'll go. If I don't come back, you'll know she's killed me."

"Or that you two are making it up in slightly more exotic ways—"

"_Harry!_"

"What?" Harry asked innocently. He dodged his godfather's playful slap. "Go. Now. Please."

"Why are you so keen for us to make it up?"

"I'm just…sick of it."

"I've been round there before to apologise."

"I know."

"It didn't go well."

"Will this time. Won't it?"

"You better hope so."

        And, sighing, Sirius left the room. Harry was so difficult to work out. Sirius honestly couldn't tell if he was relieved that Jessica's funeral had finally rolled around, or if he'd shot back to square one; closed up, wary, and self-blaming. 

"Moony! I'm just popping out to see Gr—Katherine, all right?"

       Remus raised his gaze from the book he was reading. A small smile played around his lips. "_You _are going to see _Katherine?_"

"_Yes_. Only because Harry wants me to."

"All right." Eyebrows still raised, Remus looked back down at his book. "Forget I said anything." 

"I'm trying to remember everything you've ever told me about getting into women's good books."

"Good luck, then, because it wasn't me who ever advised you about your love life; it was James. Or Lily. Or Katherine herself if you were very lucky."

        Sirius rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that gives me so much confidence."

"It's what I'm here for."

*

       He was back in the graveyard. 

Something was different, though…thick, green smoke encircled him, smothering his face…

"It's all your fault, Harry."

     Cedric. Harry couldn't escape him. His grey eyes were wide, blank, staring at Harry. His mouth was half open, just as it had been when he died. The breath caught painfully in Harry's chest, and his knees went weak. 

"Bow to death, Harry."

"I'm not dying!" he tried to shout, but no sound came out. The scene melted, and he was in Hogwarts' dungeon.

"Is she your girlfriend, Harry?" All he could see were two piercing, red eyes, and Jessica's wide, scared ones. "Shall I kill her?"

"This is all your fault, Harry!"

"No," Harry whispered, taking a step backward.

"And how could you kill your own parents?"

"Mum? Dad?"

        Lily and James Potter stepped out of the shadows. "It's your fault we're dead, Harry. We died protecting you."

"And I have to protect you now." Sirius. He stepped forward, facing Harry, looking him straight in the eye. "You've ruined my life."

"Sirius, please…"

"I hate you!"

"Sirius…"

"You must die…"

      Cedric…Jessica…his parents…Sirius…they were all closing in on him. Hands roughly grabbed his throat…he couldn't breathe…

*

_    God, I hate that woman. She's out to make my life hell, I swear._

           Sirius put his key in the door, and turned it, pushing the door open. He closed it quietly behind him. Remus needed to rest—it was the full moon in a few days. Harry would be asleep. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning. 

       _What is her problem? It started all right—I told her I was sorry, and that we needed to sort things out. But she looked so bloody satisfied…_

"Lumos," he whispered, as he held his wand in front of him. There was no sense in turning on all the lights—he only had to go upstairs and get into bed.

_And she didn't have to **slap **me when I told her it wasn't just me who needed to get my life sorted out…_

     He made his way up the stairs, stepping over the step that creaked. 

I did say it was a joint problem…not just all her, which was the right thing to say…wasn't it?

    Sighing, he reached the top of the stairs, and turned right to his room. A small noise caught his ear. He stopped, straining his ears. There it was again. What was it? Where was it coming from?

     He shoved his wand back into his pocket, and then transformed. As Padfoot, his hearing was better. The sound came again, and he moved forward, towards where it was coming from. What on earth was it? Was someone in the house?

     He traced it to Harry's door. The door was just pushed to, rather than being properly shut, and Padfoot nudged it open with his nose. 

       The noise sounded again, and now he knew what it was. Heart racing, he padded forward, and then jumped up on the bed. Harry's face was pale, and he was shaking, his face shiny with sweat. Another moan escaped his lips, and he moved under the duvet, his hand reaching up to his neck. 

"Sirius, please…" he murmured. "Sirius…"

_Does he know I'm here?_

Slowly, Padfoot inched forward, trying to get a better view. His godson was still dead to the world. He groaned again, and then, much to Sirius' alarm, his breathing suddenly became very laboured, as though he couldn't breathe properly. Dumbledore had told him not to wake Harry if he was having a dream, but…

Sod Dumbledore.

       Padfoot took another step forward, onto the pillow, nudging Harry with his nose. When he got no response, he nudged harder, and then licked Harry's face, determined to wake his godson.

   Harry's eyes flew open, and, for a split second, pale blue eyes met green. Then he sat up, and Padfoot slid down the pillow, landing half on Harry's lap. Harry's breathing was coming quickly now; he was taking in deep gulps of air, as if making up for his previously slow breaths. He was still shaking, and he buried his face in his hands, slumping back against his pillows. Padfoot jumped down off the bed, and transformed.

"Hey, are you all right?"

      There was a slight pause before Harry answered. "I'm fine. Just a bad dream."

"You sure? You're shaking like anything." Sirius put his hand on his godson's shoulder, and Harry flinched. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. It was nothing major—just a silly dream. You know that one I told you about last night? Something like that."

"If you think I'm going to buy that, you're sorely mistaken." Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed. "And I'm willing to bet your dream last night was something like this one. Am I right?"

    Harry nodded, and then lifted his head. "I'm fine, Sirius; like I said. Just a bad dream. I'm being stupid."

"Please talk to me, Harry. I want to know."

        But Harry shook his head. "Sirius, it's nothing. Honestly. Please. Just drop it."

"You were calling my name, you know. Did you know I was here?"

"You were in my dream, and—" Harry stopped, and Sirius knew he'd said more than he'd meant to.

"I'm not going to force this out of you, am I?" he said, sighing.

"I'd rather you didn't."

"Have you had dreams like this before?"

"A few. They're not important—they don't, like, have Voldemort in them, or anything."

"Memories?"

"Just bad dreams, like I said."

      Sirius tried not to look sympathetic. Harry hated pity. "Do you want some coffee?" he asked, changing the subject. "We can go downstairs?"

      To his surprise, Harry shook his head. "If you don't mind, I think I'll just stay up here. I'm kind of tired."

"Okay, if you're sure…" He leaned over, and squeezed Harry's arm. To his surprise and delight, his godson didn't jump this time. "Just make sure you get some sleep this time, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"See you in the morning." Sirius stood up, and went out of the room, closing the door behind him. "Sleep well," he murmured to the air around him. 

He doubted he would himself, at any rate.

A/N: So? What do you think? Please review!


	9. Of Ashes and Aurors

A/N: Chapter 9, already! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I think I'm getting better at this updating lark…

Chapter 9; Of Ashes and Aurors

"Ashes to ashes…dust to dust…"

         Tuesday had rolled around too quickly for Harry's liking, but, standing in White Roses National Cemetery, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else. 

     He stood between Hermione and Ron, watching as the coffin was lowered into the ground with the vicar's levitating spell. Tears were coursing down Hermione's cheeks. Ron's face was white beneath his freckles. On the other side of Hermione stood Ginny, who wasn't crying, but, then again, she hadn't known Jessica all that well. Harry suspected she had come to give Hermione support. They were good friends. 

     Katherine and Chantelle stood a little way off, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and Professor McGonnagall. Katherine had been crying before the service even started, and it was Mrs. Weasley and Remus who had taken her aside to comfort her. To Harry's surprise, even Chantelle's eyes were red and swollen. Then again, it shouldn't have come as a shock. They _had _been twin sisters, and Chantelle was human, after all.

     Remus, Sirius and Mr. Weasley weren't crying, but they, like Ginny, hadn't been familiar with Jessica either. Having said that, Mrs. Weasley looked as though she was about to dissolve into tears at any moment, and Harry had even seen Dumbledore's tissue go up to his glasses a few times. Professor McGonnagall was in much the same state as Mrs. Weasley. Harry didn't remember her ever showing this much emotion before.

"You okay?" he whispered to Hermione, as she fumbled for another tissue. She nodded, but they both knew she was lying. 

"You?" she returned. 

"I'm okay."

"It's all right to cry, you know," she said quietly. 

      Harry shook his head. "I don't reckon she would have wanted us to." Still, there was a large lump rising in his throat. _Don't cry. Not here. You know she wouldn't want you to. _He swallowed, looking back as the vicar cast another spell, and the earth flew into the hole in the ground, on top of the coffin. That was it. The end of it. She was completely gone, now.

     The crowd started to disperse. There had been plenty of other people there that Harry hadn't known—whom he could only assume were family members and other friends. Most of them had been crying. 

         To think this was all his fault. 

 "Harry."

       Harry looked up. Professor Dumbledore had left Katherine's side. He smiled sadly at Harry. 

"Do not blame yourself for events that were out of your control."

       Harry didn't question how Dumbledore knew. He had long suspected that the old Headmaster could read thoughts. 

"They weren't out of my control, though, were they?" he said softly. "All I had to do was push her out of the way…anything…"

"And what about Cedric?" Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"I could have got him out of the way, too—"

"What would have happened if Cedric _had _survived, Harry? Lord Voldemort would have still returned, and, then, when you duelled…what would have happened to Cedric, then? Lord Voldemort would have made sure he died—and you, most likely, would have met the same end."

    Tears blurred Harry's vision, and he blinked them away. He swallowed before speaking. "I could have taken the curse—"

"Impossible, Harry. You would not have survived. As much as you dislike it, I fear, your life is held over other people. You are a symbol of hope for the Wizarding world. If you died, Harry, people would stop fighting. You cannot save everyone. If you had not been there…Cedric, Jessica…both would have died. And every village he had attacked…you were not there to save them, Harry, but they would have died, regardless. If you are determined to save people, keep out of the Dark Lord's way. Otherwise he will kill you, and the world will lose hope. Do you understand me?"

        Harry nodded, looking back at the newly turned earth. It didn't change anything.

"She's still dead."

"Everyone lives and dies, Harry. It is their own choices that determines how soon death rolls around. For Jessica, she knew she was going into danger, just as you did. You were prepared. I think Miss Greenfield knew it was highly unlikely she was going to live."

"But she still went in there?"

"Think of your godfather, Harry. He would rather die than sit around if someone else—especially you—is in danger. No one would be able to stop him. Apply the same theory to Jessica. If people are determined to do something, one must not stop them. One cannot make other people's decisions for them. And this is why you cannot stop people from dying."

      Harry nodded again. "I understand, sir."

"Good." The headmaster straightened up. "Have you thought about your NEWTs?"

         Harry shrugged. "I haven't really had time. I know what I want to do, but I don't know how many classes I'm taking, or anything." He began walking with Dumbledore, away from Jessica's grave.

"You have until the first morning of term to decide, of course, but I thought you might want to think long and carefully about this. As I'm sure Miss Granger has told you, the minimum one can take is five, and the maximum is twelve."

"The teachers don't decide how many?"

"Not at NEWT level—it all depends on what profession the student wishes to go into."

     Harry stopped, turning to the old man. "I haven't told Sirius or Remus yet, but I want to be an Auror."

"It does not surprise me."

"Do you know what qualifications I need?"

"Let me see…" Dumbledore raised his eyes to the sky. "Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and, of course, Defence Against the Dark Arts…Herbology is always helpful…" He shook his head. "There are more, but I am unable to remember them, I'm afraid…I believe you are arriving at Hogwarts before the start of term, with Sirius and Remus?"

    Harry nodded.

"I will prepare the list for you, and you will have it then."

"Thank you, sir."

"In the meantime, perhaps you should discuss your decision with your godfather? He was an Auror himself." 

"He'd do his nut," Harry said gloomily. "Remus would be all right about it, I reckon, but you saw how Sirius reacted to the whole Order thing—he doesn't like me being in any more danger than I have to. He—"

"Harry!"

       Harry abruptly stopped talking at the voice, and turned. Sirius was jogging towards him, his black robes billowing out behind him.

"Hey," he said, as he reached them. "You all right? Ready to go?"

"Yeah." Harry turned back to Dumbledore, who smiled slightly. "Thanks, sir."

"Any time, Harry. See you on August the twenty-seventh."

"The vicar's started up a fire for people to use. He's got a box of Floo Powder." Sirius led Harry away from the headmaster. "Are you all right? You went as white as anything during the service. You're still pale now."

"I'm okay." Harry was sick of telling everyone he was okay, he was all right, he was fine. "Honestly."

"If you're sure…" Sirius seemed to have given up. He pulled Harry towards the fire. 

*

"Sirius, old fellow, good to see you again!" Professor Flitwick was about half the size of Sirius, but that didn't stop the delighted smile spreading across his face. "And Remus! You both had a good summer, I trust?"

"Splendid, thank you, Filius," Remus replied. "Has everyone already arrived?"

"Well, Albus and Minerva are already here, of course, and Sybil and Severus arrived a few moments ago…though not together, I must add. As far as I can make out, you have about an hour to unpack, and then we are all meeting in the staff room to discuss timetables. Mr. Potter here," he caught sight of Harry, "can go straight up to Gryffindor Tower. Professor Dumbledore asked me to give you this." Flitwick took an envelope out of his pocket, and handed it to Harry. "The Gryffindor password is 'red cheeked cordon-bleu.' Dinner is at eight o'clock, which is in about two hours."

"Thank you, sir." Harry nodded to Sirius and Remus. "I'll see you at dinner."

"See you later. Do you want help with your trunk?"

"Hippy will help Harry Potter with his case, sirs!" A House Elf appeared at Harry's side so fast, he could have sworn she'd Apparated there. She took Harry's trunk, and, balancing it on two hands, she started up the stairs. Harry shrugged, and then followed her, leaving Sirius and Remus standing there laughing. 

"Red cheeked cordon-bleu," he said to the Fat Lady. She frowned at him.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you a bit early? What have you done this time?" 

"_Nothing_—I had to come early with Professors Black and Lupin."  
  


"All right, then, dear, whatever you say." She swung forward, and Harry scrambled through the hole after Hippy. 

         Once up in the sixth-year boys' dormitory, he flopped onto his four poster bed, tearing open the letter Flitwick had given him.

Harry— 

_The list as promised. Bear in mind that the subjects you are permitted to take depend on your OWL results. _

_--Professor Dumbledore_

      Harry flipped over to the second sheet.

Qualification Requirements 

**_Aurors_**__

**__**

**_Required_**

**__**

**_Charms – _**_Requires an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade or above at OWL **or** an 'Average' grade or above at Advanced OWL to be able to study this subject at NEWT level._

**_Defence Against the Dark Arts – _**_See Charms._

**_Herbology – _**_See Charms._

**_History of Magic – _**_Professor Binns requires an 'Average' grade or above at OWL to be able to study History of Magic at NEWT level._

**_Medical Studies – _**_Madam Pomfrey is willing to take on students regardless of whether they have taken Medical Studies at OWL._

**_Potions – _**_Professor Snape requires an 'Outstanding' grade at OWL, **or **an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade at Advanced OWL._

**_Transfiguration – _**_Professor McGonnagall prefers students to have an 'Outstanding' grade at OWL, **or **an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade at Advanced OWL. However, an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade at OWL is acceptable._

**_Recommended_**

**__**

**_Care of Magical Creatures – _**_Professor Lupin requires an 'Exceeds Expectations' grade or above at OWL._

**_Flying – _**_Madam Hooch requires an 'Outstanding' grade at OWL._

**_Muggle Studies – _**_See 'Care of Magical Creatures'._

     And there was a small note at the bottom of the page:

Harry, I realise Divination is not your favourite subject, but I do recommend you take it. Although it is neither required nor recommended for Aurors, you do have a natural gift for it, and it could be useful to the Order. Professor Trelawney will accept any student, providing they have completed her course at OWL. – Professor Dumbledore 

     Divination? Harry couldn't picture himself spending another two years with Professor Trelawney. Then again, if it was of use to the Order…

     He read through the whole list through again. He qualified for all the subjects, thank God, including all the recommended ones. He still didn't understand how he had got past his OWLs so well—he couldn't really remember them very well. The whole week had passed in a blur. Ten subjects. He could take twelve, and since he also qualified for Divination…

Eleven. He had taken fifteen OWLs—even more than Hermione. He didn't want that much work again, so he definitely wasn't taking the maximum number. Ten NEWTs he could probably cope with, but eleven…?

    Harry stood up, wandering over to the window. The grounds were always beautiful in the summer. In the distance he could see the Quidditch pitch. He itched to be back on his broom, playing against another house. He was the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. That Quidditch cup had their name written all over it again this year. 

     He turned away from the window again, restless. He still had yet to tell Sirius or Remus what his career choice was. Sirius would surely guess from his NEWT choices, wouldn't he? _Maybe not…_

Maybe he wouldn't have to tell his godfather for another two years. 

His thoughts drifted back to Jessica's funeral. Dumbledore wanted him to tell Sirius. But how would his godfather take it? He was so uptight about Harry being in any more danger than absolutely necessary, and you couldn't _get _a more dangerous or risky job than an Auror. 

What would Remus say? He was more likely to support him, rather than blow up at the first mention of it. But would he tell Sirius? He hadn't told him about the Order, and that had been much more serious…

     Harry collapsed back onto his bed, lying down and closing his eyes. He'd been sleeping better recently, since Jessica's funeral, but he hadn't slept too well the night before. It had nothing to do with his dreams—more with Sirius, who had made it his business to be crashing up and down the stairs at midnight, calling: "Where are my lesson plans? Moony? I bet you've pinched them again!" And then there had been some sort of heated discussion outside his room. Sirius and Remus seemed to be trying to decide just who had pinched whose lesson plan. 

   Ah well. He had a couple of hours; he could catch up on his sleep now. 

 He yawned, and then his whole body relaxed, preparing itself for rest. Within a few minutes, he was dead to the world

*

     When he next came round, Harry had a feeling he'd been asleep for some time. His eyelids felt heavy, and, somewhere in his foggy mind, he realised he was in his pyjamas, and that he was under the duvet. That was odd. He had no recollection of changing or getting into bed.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty."

      Smiling sleepily, Harry rolled over, to see Sirius coming across the room. He was carrying a tray, which he set down on Harry's lap once his godson had sat up in bed.

"What time is it?" Harry asked. "Did I miss breakfast?"

"Yep—and dinner. I came up here to get you last night around eight, and you'd crashed out. I didn't have the heart to wake you. So I transfigured your clothes into your pyjamas, and got you into bed. It's a miracle you didn't wake up, actually." Sirius grinned. "It's eleven o'clock, now—you've been asleep ages."

"Sorry—I was tired."

"So I guessed," Sirius said dryly. "Better now?"

"Yeah, thanks." Harry looked down at the tray. It was a full cooked breakfast, with bacon, eggs and sausages. "You didn't cook this, did you?"

"Ah, the wonders of House Elves." Sirius winked. "Come on, eat up—I've got another staff meeting to be at in half an hour."

"Have you met the new Herbology teacher?" Harry asked, picking up his knife and fork, and cutting a sausage in half.

      Sirius rolled his eyes. "Merlin, _have _I. She's beautiful—I'll give her that."

"What's the problem?"

"Me, apparently. She and Greenfield should start a club—the anti-Sirius club. She _hates_ me. Don't know why; I haven't done anything to offend her." He sighed. "She's from the Ministry—she was the inspector of dangerous and illegal magical plants. She's obviously qualified enough to teach, but you can tell she's not impressed by half the staff." A smile slowly spread itself across his face. "You should have seen her with Snape yesterday. He was giving Remus the Wolfsbane potion, and she dared to say that it was a shade darker than it should be. Snapey was not a happy bunny."

"What does Remus think of her?"

"That's the strange thing; they get on really well—they were laughing and joking all through dinner yesterday. And she knows he's a werewolf…it's odd, because you know what the Ministry thinks of Remus' kind…"

    Harry shrugged. "Maybe they just get on well, Sirius—some people do. And she has left the Ministry now. What's her name?"

"Helena Canis." Sirius shuddered. "McGonnagall can't stand her either."

"Can you see McGonnagall abiding _any _teacher who beautifies herself, though?" Harry said. He put his knife and fork together. "She just can't stand any airs and graces—you've seen her with Trelawney."

"Don't get the impression Canis likes airs and graces—she's beautiful, but she's not pretentious. You'll see what I mean when you meet her."

"I'm not sure I _want _to meet her."

        Sirius shrugged. "Are you finished?"

"Yeah, thanks. It was great."

"Good, because I've got you a present."

"A present? It's not my birthday." Harry frowned as Sirius brought something wrapped up in tissue out of his pocket. 

"I know. I just thought you might like it."

"What is it?" Harry took the small package from his godfather. It wasn't very heavy. 

"Open it and see."

       Harry slowly unwrapped the tissue paper. Inside was a gold chain. On the end of it was a small, red jewel in the shape of a diamond. 

"Sirius, this must have cost a fortune," he said, holding it up to the light. It was beautiful.

      Sirius shook his head. "It used to be James'—he said it was a family heirloom. I retrieved it from him the night he died."

   Harry ran his finger over the surface. He looked up as Sirius spoke again.

"It's supposed to have some magical powers, but it's really old magic—dated back to Godric Gryffindor, so James said. I don't think even James properly knew what it did. He reckoned it gave him protection."

       Harry didn't know what to say. "Thanks, Sirius," he said, at last. "It—it means a lot to me, having things of my parents."

"It's no problem," his godfather assured him. "Maybe you'll be able to work out what it does." He smiled slightly. "Now, I think you better get up and get dressed, and I suggest you finish off that essay for McGonnagall. I take it you're still continuing with Transfiguration? You did very well in your exams."

        Harry nodded. "Listen, Sirius, about my choices—"

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "You are taking my class, I hope?"

"Yes, but…"

"And Moony's?"

"Yes…"

"Then what?"

        Harry wanted to tell Sirius so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He shook his head.

"Dumbledore wants me to take Divination."

"Dumbledore _what?_ Is he _mad?_" 

"No…he just thinks it might be useful for the Order."

     Sirius looked thoughtful. "I suppose it would be, but it is your choice, Harry; you shouldn't let anyone else make it for you. Have you decided what subjects you're taking yet? Don't take to many—they're called 'Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests' for a reason, you know."

"I know."

"So…have you decided?"

"Er…no…" Harry looked up at his godfather. "I know I'm doing Transfiguration, Defence, and Care of Magical Creatures…and Flying…oh, and Charms…and, uh, Potions…"

"_Potions?_" 

"It might be useful…besides," Harry said, quickly thinking of an excuse, "Ron wants to go into the Ministry, and apparently he needs Potions at NEWT level. I said I'd keep him company."

"Fair enough…what else?"

"I don't know." In truth, Harry couldn't really remember all of the subjects he had to take. 

"Word of warning: don't do Herbology. Not if you've got Canis."

"I'm sure she's not that bad."

"You'd be surprised." Sirius checked his watch. "I better go—you'd better start thinking about your choices. You've got to decide on the first day of term."

"Yeah, I know."

       Harry watched his godfather leave the dormitory. Why was it so hard to tell him? It was just a career choice—nothing that should make him nervous. But, dammit, it _did_—and all because he knew Sirius would explode at the first mention of Aurors. 

   He had to know sometime.

Well, that was fine. It just wouldn't be now. 

*

    It wouldn't be now, but surely Sirius would question his NEWT choices when Harry told him.

Why can't he just accept what I want to do, and live with it? 

_Because he cares about you._

_If he cares about me, he won't blow up._

_Tell him then._

_But he **will** blow up; that's the problem!_

       Harry was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't notice the woman until he'd crashed into her. He jumped back as the plants she had been carrying crashed to the floor.

"Honestly—watch where you're going!" she snapped, as they watched the plants crawl towards an empty classroom. "Do you know what these are?"

"They're Peapoppers," Harry said, not looking at the woman. "Excellent healing properties, if you can catch them. They have human antics, and throw the poison peas they grow at you if they think they're in danger."

"Precisely! I—" She stopped, and he turned to look at her. Her curly brown hair hung round her shoulders, and she brushed a strand away from her ear. Her eyes were a dark chocolate colour, and her complexion was perfectly clear and creamy; a little too perfect. "Aren't you a student? Who are you?"

"Harry Potter," he said, holding his hand out to her. "I came with my godfather, Professor Black."

"Sirius Black is your godfather? I pity you. I'm Professor Canis—the new Herbology teacher." She shook Harry's hand, smiling slightly. "I take it you are a seventh year?"

"Sixth. I did the Advanced Herbology course last year for OWL."

"I see. Well, it's good to meet a student who knows his peapoppers from his beanbenders. Would you mind helping me recapture them?" Professor Canis looked nervously towards the classroom. "They're not the most cooperative of peapoppers, I must say. You weren't busy, were you?"

      Harry shook his head. "I don't mind…seeing as I crashed into you in the first place."

"Good lad. Just follow me." She led him in the classroom, after the plants. There were about ten of them, huddled in the middle of the room A few peas rolled from the pots to Professor Canis' feet. 

"Now," she said, rolling up her sleeves, "don't scare them. Best thing to do is approach from behind, and then stroke their stalks. They like that, and then they won't mind you picking them up."

       Harry nodded.

"Now, you go this direction, and I'll go this way," she instructed.

         Harry started circling around the peapoppers, treading as quietly as he could, moving between the desks and chairs. He froze when he heard a shout.

"Oh dammit!" 

     He saw Professor Canis fall over—she had tripped over a chair. She fell to the floor with a heavy crash.

"Get _down!_" he heard her call. He threw himself to the ground, and heard popping noises. Suddenly peas were flying in every direction. He pressed his body to the floor, the breath knocked out of him. The only way he could think of to stop them was to wait until they ran out of peas, which wouldn't be for hours yet; they could store thousands.

"I didn't want to do this," Professor Canis said. He turned his head to see her taking out her wand, and pointing at the peapoppers. "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

     The peas stopped flying. Slowly, Harry got up off the floor, and stood up. The peapoppers were frozen in an upright position, and had taken on a bluish tinge. He turned to see Professor Canis getting up off the floor herself, and brushing down her robes. 

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" he asked.

"It's not _good_ for them, you know," she said, stepping around a desk, and approaching the plants. "It will take them _days _to recover from this little incident. Won't it, my lovelys?" she crooned, stroking the nearest peapopper. It didn't move. "Come on, Potter, you can help me carry them back to the Greenhouse now. We're going to Greenhouse Four."

"Sure." Harry picked up five of the pots. Thank Merlin they were in a body bind. He was prepared to bet that if they weren't, he would have a face full of peas by now. 

"So," Professor Canis said, as they went down the corridor, "I understand you live with your godfather and Remus?"

"Yeah—they've been friends since they were at school."

"They are just friends?"

      It took Harry a second to realise what she was getting at. "Yeah—of course." **_Not _**_that it's any of your business._

"I see."

       They walked in silence for several minutes, until they reached the Entrance Hall.

"Do you know what happened to the last Herbology teacher?" Harry suddenly said, on impulse. 

"I know what happened to her." Professor Canis continued walking. "I assure you, Mr. Potter, I am not pursuing the same path. My duty, as a teacher, is to protect the school, and the students in it. You can trust me when I say I loathe the Dark Lord like I loathe nobody else. In here." She pushed open the door to Greenhouse four, leaving it open so Harry could follow her in. "Are you taking Herbology at NEWT level?"

    Harry nodded. "I don't think Sirius wants me to, though," he said, putting the peapoppers down on the work surface. 

"You shouldn't always do what other people want you to," she said. "What did you get in Herbology last year?"

"Exceeds Expectations. An Average in Advanced Herbology."

"Well, then, you certainly qualify for the class."

"I suppose, but it was—" Harry stopped as a sudden sweep of iciness overtook his body. He knew that feeling, but here…?

     He turned on the spot. Coming across the lawn were perhaps twenty or thirty Dementors. Even more bizarre was that, with them, came a hoard of trolls and Hippogriffs. What were they doing here? Harry took a step backwards as they came closer, and he fumbled for his wand. His body had lost all its warmth. 

"Not Harry—please not Harry!" 

His wand…he needed his wand…

"Kill the spare!" 

No…he'd left it in the Tower…

"Stand aside, girl…" "Please, have mercy!" 

         He was barely aware of his surroundings…he couldn't see in front of him…

"Is she your girlfriend, Harry? Shall I kill her?" "Stand aside, stand aside…" "Bloody of the enemy, forcibly taken…" "Kill the spare!" "Avada Kedavra!" "Bow to death, Harry…" "KILL THE SPARE!"      Screams…images flashed past… 

*

"Can you hear me, Potter? Mr. Potter?"

        Groggily, Harry forced his eyes open. He was staring up into the face of Professor Canis. Her brow was bent into a frown.

"I've sent the Dementors away," she said. "No idea they would affect you like that…are you quite all right?"

"I'm fine." He sat up, and then forced himself onto his feet. His legs were shaking slightly. His head pounded. 

"Are you sure? Perhaps you'd better sit down for a moment…"

"No, I'm fine…really…" Harry took a step backwards. "It's happened before—nothing major…I have to go now—it was nice meeting you…"

       And he fled.

*

      Lucky for Harry, Sirius came into his private quarters less than twenty minutes later. He frowned when he saw Harry sitting on the sofa.

"I've been looking for you," he said. Then he caught sight of Harry's face. "Are you okay?"

     Harry ignored the question. "Sirius," he said, through gritted teeth, "please explain to me why there are Dementors on the school grounds."

"Ah." Sirius' expression cleared, and he came and sat down next to Harry. "Did you meet one?"

"Try about thirty." Harry turned his head to look at his godfather. "Why are they on the school grounds?"

     Sirius leaned over to the coffee table, and picked up a small bar of chocolate that was sitting on it. He unwrapped it, and passed it to Harry. "I'll tell you in a minute. First: eat. You're as white as a sheet."

     Harry took it, but he put it in his lap, obviously not intending to eat it yet.

"Eat it, Harry. You'll feel better, I promise."

      Resignedly, Harry broke a piece off and put it in his mouth. Warmth spread through his body. Sirius remained silent until he had finished the whole bar.

"That's better," he said, at last. "You've got a bit more colour in your cheeks now." 

"Come on, then," Harry said. He leaned back on the sofa. "Why are there Dementors here? And trolls…and Hippogriffs, for that matter?"

"To cut a long story short, it's not Dumbledore's fault. The Ministry's finally accepted that Voldemort's back, and, after the events of last year, they want to protect the school a bit better. Dementors and trolls are guarding the school entrance, and Hippogriffs are being stationed more inland, as it were."

"I thought Dumbledore refused to have Dementors here again?"

"He did—but the Ministry threatened to make him step down if he didn't have them. He agreed, but only because he would never leave Hogwarts."

"They're staying here the whole year?"

"'Fraid so. But Dumbledore's given the Minister his warnings—if the Dementors—or trolls, or Hippogriffs—make any move to intentionally hurt the students, they're going. They're to stay at their posts at all times unless otherwise instructed. You've just got to make sure you've got your wand handy at all times."

          Harry nodded. "What about you? They're not going to attack you?"

"Dumbledore's had strict words about that, as well." Sirius gave a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine, I promise."

"I'm worried about you…among other things. Do you remember when you came to watch the Quidditch match in third year?"

"Yeah, I remember. The Dementors won't be allowed to leave their posts, Harry. You won't fall fifty feet from a broomstick. And _I _won't get Kissed."

        Harry shuddered. 

"Do you believe me?" Sirius asked gently.

"I believe you," Harry said, after a few minutes of silence. "It's just I was kind of hoping for a normal year."

"Normal? You? You wish, mate." Sirius winked, and then looked at his watch. "Come on, it's time for lunch. You've got to show up for a meal at some point."

"Yeah." Harry smiled, but, inwardly, he couldn't suppress his fears.

What if the Dementors got Sirius? 

A/N: Well, that concludes Chapter 9 for today, folks. Not terrible, is it? Please review!

~Lily


	10. The Sorting

A/N: Well, well, well, look who's finally back. hides as everyone glares I'm sorry! If you want the honest reason, the truth is I was in a relationship with someone…and I let him take over my life. Ah well, I'm well rid of him. So I'm back! Bet you're all _so_ happy…anyway, I shall not delay you any longer, here's chapter 10!

Chapter 10; The Sorting

Harry lay awake thinking about it that night. His encounter with the Dementors had brought all his worst fears rushing back to him. He couldn't afford to lose Sirius…he had come to care about his godfather too much. Somewhere, deep down, he knew that Sirius had been cleared of all charges, but he still felt uneasy; it was impossible to trust the Dementors. Bloody hell, they'd almost Kissed _him _once!

Sighing, Harry turned onto his back, staring up into the inky blackness of the ceiling, trying hard to think about something other than the guards of Azkaban. His mind flicked over to the trouble of trying to tell his godfather about his career choice again. _An Auror_. It wasn't really that bad, was it?

_Of course it is. He won't want you in any more danger than you have to be._

Harry felt a great surge of resentment towards his godfather. He was sixteen now, Merlin! How old did he have to be to prove he was capable of looking after himself, that he could make his own choices?

_Then just don't tell him._

_What?_

_Don't tell him. That way he won't blow up at you._

_But he's…Sirius…I can't LIE to him._

_You aren't LYING, exactly…just not telling him something…for his own benefit, of course._

_But…but…he'll guess from my NEWT choices…_

_Not necessarily. And if he does, that's his problem. He can't know for certain you want to be an Auror._

Harry shook his head. It seemed like the perfect solution. Don't tell Sirius, and he won't get angry. He won't do a runner again. Still, he felt uneasy. There was something very wrong about it, but he couldn't put his finger on it. It was making his brain ache just thinking about it. It was better just to leave it, ignore it.

Yes, always the best plan.

He was woken on the morning of September 1st by a small nip on his finger. Blearily, he opened his eyes, to be greeted by the sight of Pig, Ron's small (but definitely high-spirited, Harry noted, as Pig flew like a Bludger around the room) owl.

"Come here," he said, reaching out to grab the bird, and untie the letter from Pig's leg. He was rather surprised to be getting a letter on September 1st, considering the whole school was returning to Hogwarts that evening.

_**Dear Harry,**_

**_I'll bet you're surprised to be getting a letter from me on September 1st!_**

_No shit, Sherlock_, Harry thought, as his eyes flicked down to the name at the bottom of the page. Ginny. He smiled a little. The two had written regularly to each other over the summer. Hermione had always been good friends with Ginny, but Harry had never really bothered to get to know her properly. However, it had been she who had first written to him, and, surprised at himself, he had written back. Shaking his head a little, he started reading the letter again.

_**Dear Harry,**_

**_I'll bet you're surprised to be getting a letter from me on September 1st! Thought I'd write you one last letter before we saw each other at Hogwarts again. It must be really boring to be cooped up with adults all the time – life here is still mad, as I'm writing, Mum's having another argument with Fred and George about their NEWTs (they only got three between them, she's not happy, and you know what Mum's like when she's not happy). I hope I do well in my OWLs this year – you know she thinks of you and Hermione as part of the family, and you two did so well (what was it, Mr. Potter? Fifteen OWLs? That doesn't even dignify a comment!), not to mention Ron, who didn't do as badly as Mum expected, so she bought him a new cauldron. Lucky prat. No, wait, I can hear him shouting something about having lost his cauldron. Idiot. _**

_**I've been playing loads of Quidditch this week, you'll be pleased to hear – I think we should all play Quidditch on Christmas Day this year! How cool would that be? Snowball fights from brooms! (And before you say anything, I would so beat you!) Ron's been playing a lot too, you should consider him for the Quidditch team – I'm not just trying to get my brother onto the team, but seriously, he's got really good, especially at playing Beater. Just I know you have a lot of spaces this year, so…**_

_**Anyway, no doubt I will see you at the Welcome Feast tonight; in the meantime, don't get detention before you even start the term! I know what you're like!**_

_**Ginny**_

With a start, Harry realised he'd forgotten all about the Quidditch team. Not only was he Quidditch Captain, but he also had five positions to fill – all three Chasers and two Beaters had left the year before. _I'll go and see McGonnagall about it later, _he decided, throwing back the duvet covers, and getting out of bed. It seemed strange to be here, at Hogwarts, on September 1st, whilst, meanwhile, his fellow students were still boarding the Hogwarts Express. He had a deep suspicion that, in fact, it had been Dumbledore's idea that he didn't travel by the Hogwarts Express – after all, it wasn't absolutely necessary for Remus and Sirius to be here before the start of term. Then again, he could understand why – Hogwarts might not even be safe, let alone a train full of students with no teachers.

He skipped breakfast, since he was late anyway, and instead went straight to see Professor McGonnagall in her office.

"Come in," she said, after his tap on the door. He went in. Professor McGonnagall was sitting at her desk, sorting out what looked suspiciously like essay questions.

"Mr. Potter," she said, looking up. "Have a seat. What can I do for you?"

Nervously, Harry took a seat in front of her desk, feeling like he was a first year again. He remembered when he was first sent to his Head of House, thinking he was going to be caned, when instead he had been appointed to the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"Well, seeing as I'm Quidditch Captain…I thought I'd ask for your advice on who to select for the team this year…because we've lost all our Chasers and the Weasley twins," he said. "I've heard Ron – Ron Weasley – has got a lot better over the summer, and he was always fairly decent, so I was thinking about putting him in the post of one of the Beaters."

"Excellent idea."

Harry's mouth fell open. Had McGonnagall just agreed with something he had said?

"I was speaking to Madam Hooch about this only yesterday," she continued. "She was talking about a seventh year, Graham Winter, who is, apparently, excellent. She suggested you appoint he, along with Emma Dobbs and Natalie McDonald, as Chasers this year. The latter two are both fourth years."

"Alicia said last year Natalie was built more for a Beater, though," Harry said with a frown. "Surely it would be better to put her in that position?"

"Madam Hooch said she has been working very hard on her Chaser skills recently, and, as she's friends with Emma, those two will work very well together. Winter will work with anyone." Professor McGonnagall looked over her glasses. "Anyway, I was going to suggest you replace George Weasley with Ginny Weasley."

Harry looked at her sharply. Ginny had said she'd been practising a lot, but he'd never really looked at Ginny play and thought about her joining the Quidditch team.

"I don't know…is she good?"

"A very high standard, were Madam Hooch's words, but she'll need some training. And if you want to appoint Ronald Weasley as a Beater, it's likely the two of them will work well together. Of course, it's your choice, you're the captain." She smiled.

"I'll talk to her about it," Harry said. He stood up to leave. "Thanks very much, Professor."

"Wait a minute, Mr. Potter."

Harry said back down again.

"I wanted to discuss your NEWT choices with you. Obviously, you have a wide choice from the subjects you took last year, but I think I should warn you that the NEWTs are a lot of work. There is a reason the maximum is twelve."

"I know," he said. "Sure, my results were OK last year, but it was hard, and the work took up a lot of my time. I don't want to turn into Hermione and stay up all night working."

Professor McGonnagall's lips twitched. "Miss Granger is an excellent student."

"I know, I know, don't get me wrong, she's one of my best friends, but I could never be committed to my studies the way she is. I'm doing eleven NEWTs, and only because I have to. I spoke to Dumbledore about it."

"Ah. I see. Well, I was going to speak to you about taking Transfiguration NEWT. You did very well in your OWL – an Outstanding grade, wasn't it, with Exceeds Expectations in Advanced Transfiguration. I do hope you're planning to take my NEWT class."

"I was, actually."

"Excellent. What is it you're planning to go into after leaving school? Or have you not decided yet?"

"Er…" Harry's thoughts spun. _Sirius._ "I haven't decided yet."

Professor McGonnagall held his gaze for a few seconds, and then gestured for him to stand up. He took that as his signal to leave.

But as he was going out of the door, he heard Professor McGonnagall's voice again.

"Your father was an Auror, you know."

Harry stared at her. "Er…yes, um, I-I did know that…thanks for your help!"

He almost ran down the corridor.

Harry was almost disappointed to be back in his uniform as he stood in the Entrance Hall, waiting for the coaches to arrive. Every other summer, he had had to put up with the Dursleys for at least some of it, but this year, he had spent six weeks solely with Sirius and Remus (occasionally, of course, seeing Katherine). He didn't want it to end.

On the other hand, he hadn't seen his friends since Jessica's funeral. At the memory, he flinched, trying to put her death in the back of his mind, as he had done since she had died. Every time he thought about her, he felt a tremendous rush of guilt and sadness. He had learnt by now that it was just better to keep busy and put her out of his mind.

"Harry!"

Harry grinned as someone threw her arms around him, and drew him into a big hug.

"Hey Hermione," he said, hugging his friend back. "You're all late."

"Yeah." Harry let go of Hermione to see Ron standing in front of him. "It's chucking it down outside, and there was some kind of delay."

It was only then he noticed how wet Ron and Hermione looked…and that the front of his robes were now damp where Hermione had hugged him.

"Oh look at us all," she said, getting out her wand. "_Exaresco!_"

"Trust her," Ron said, as they all became much drier. "_Not_ that I'm complaining!" he added hurriedly, as Hermione raised her wand again. "Hadn't we better go to the Great Hall?"

"Yeah, we should," Harry agreed, anxious to change the subject before Hermione charmed a rain cloud above Ron.

They moved into the Great Hall with a crowd of other students, walking quickly towards the Gryffindor table. As they approached, Harry saw a redhead already sitting there.

"Ginny!"

She turned around at his voice, a warm smile lighting up her face, and she stood up to give him a hug in greeting.

"Did you get my letter?" she asked, as he slipped into a seat next to her.

He nodded, looked around, and, seeing that Ron was talking to Hermione, said in an undertone, "I talked it over with Professor McGonnagall; I'm appointing Ron to the team. But don't tell him yet."

Ginny looked delighted. "He'll be really pleased. Have you decided who else you're going to recruit?"

Harry hesitated. "Yeah…but it's a secret until I post them up on the Gryffindor notice board."

"Ah, fair enough." She nodded, and looked like she was about to say something else, when the Hall fell silent, as the doors opened, and Professor McGonnagall lead the new first years in. They looked very small to Harry, who had grown a lot over the summer.

"I'm sure I was never that small," Ginny whispered in his ear. He nodded in agreement, but stopped as Professor McGonnagall placed the Sorting Hat onto a stall at the front of the Hall. A dead hush swept amongst everybody as the Hat began to sing:

"_I'm the Hogwart's Sorting Hat;_

_Yes, you may recall._

_That once upon a time I sat_

_Proud, and sleek, and tall._

_Then, one day, a time ago,_

_When I was still quite new._

_Gryffindor whipped me off his head_

_As if he somehow knew._

_That one day soon a time would come_

_When the four founders would be parted._

_So he gave me a new job,_

_And this is how I started._

_To pick those for Slytherin, _

_Whose ancestry is pure._

_Their cunningness and crafty side_

_Is of one thing to be sure._

_Or those who belong in Ravenclaw,_

_Who have a clever mind._

_These quick-witted Ravenclaws_

_Will never be behind._

_Or perhaps you'll be in Hufflepuff,_

_Where their loyalty is steady._

_Should you ever be in need,_

_To help they will be ready. _

_Or yet in daring Gryffindor,_

_If you are brave and bold._

_This House is not for the faint at heart,_

_They're worth their weight in gold._

_But whatever House you may be in,_

_Let it not divide us._

_For Hogwarts is under threat,_

_Divided we fall, and thus_

_Slytherins and Gryffindors _

_Together you must be,_

_Whilst Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws_

_For once you must agree._

_So try me on, do not fear,_

_But heed what I have told you._

_So let the Sorting now begin…_

_Good night, farewell, Adieu!"_

The Hall burst into applause. From Harry's other side, Ron looked confused.

"What did it mean? 'Divided we fall', 'Hogwarts is under threat'?"

"Well, I expect it's referring to You-Know-Who," Hermione said. "It's thinking of what happened last year…he got into the castle, and so we can't afford to all hate each other if we're going to beat him. I think it's quite right," she added, as 'Anderson, Peter' was sorted into Hufflepuff. "All of this inter-House rivalry is stupid."

"Well," Ron said, eying up the Slytherin table, "if it thinks I'm going to be best friends with Malfoy, it's got another thing coming…"

"Bones, Georgina," Professor McGonnagall called.

"Ron!" Hermione looked shocked. "Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the end of our fourth year? 'United we stand'! That's what he meant! We just have to put aside our difference and get on with it if we're going to defeat You-Know-Who."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Cheers came from the direction of the Ravenclaw table. Harry saw Cho smiling and clapping with her friends. A year ago, he might have stared at her, and think how beautiful she looked; now, he merely glanced at her with sympathy in his heart…she knew what it was like to lose someone close to you…_Merlin, why can't I just put Jess to the back of my mind? For God's sake, Potter, get over yourself. She's dead. Deal with it!_

"Hey, mate, you all right?"

Harry jumped as Ron's hand waved in front of his face.

"You looked like you were off someplace else," Ron said. "You were sitting there with a glazed look in your eyes…"

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry, I was just thinking." Looking back at the first years, Harry realised with a start that the Sorting was now moving swiftly past the 'Ms'. His gaze wandered over to the Staff Table, where Sirius was deep in conversation with Remus. He caught his godfather's eye, and gave a small wave. Sirius returned it with a small smile, and then went back to talking to Remus.

"Sirius isn't in disguise this year," Ginny observed, following his gaze. "I suppose it would look suspicious, having the same Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher two years running."

Harry let out a soft laugh. "Something like that. I'm just happy he's not on the run anymore."

"I can see how that works." Ginny's gaze didn't leave the Staff Table. "Do you mind having Professor Lupin living with you? I mean, wouldn't you rather it was just you and Sirius?"

Harry shrugged. "Nah, it's good it being the three of us – and anyway, I do get time alone with Sirius…and time alone with Remus. Sometimes there are just things I'd rather discuss with Remus than with Sirius." _Like the Order_, he added silently.

"I guess…what about if you, Sirius and Katherine lived together, though?"

_It would be just like having parents…_

He forced a laugh. "I couldn't live with Chantelle. A Slytherin, under the same roof as me? Get real."

"Honestly, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, who had been listening in on the conversation. "You're as bad as Ron. I would have thought you, of all people…"

But she was forced to fall silent as the last first year joined the Slytherin table, Professor McGonnagall removed the Sorting Hat, and Dumbledore stood up.

"First of all," he said, with a warm smile, "welcome back to Hogwarts!"

A cheer erupted around the Hall, although it seemed noticeably quieter without Fred and George there. When silence had fallen again, Dumbledore continued speaking.

"Secondly, I should like to extend a warm welcome to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Stellan unfortunately had to leave us at the end of last term to go to the West Indies to 'find himself'."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny exchanged amused smiles.

"Therefore, he has kindly been replaced by Professor Black, who will hopefully last longer than our last…five Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers?"

A laugh rippled around the Hall, as people started clapping. Harry was glad to note they seemed so accepting, especially after fifteen years of believing Sirius to be guilty.

"I would also like to welcome Professor Canis, who will replace Professor Sprout as Herbology teacher, and Head of Hufflepuff House!"

All eyes turned to Professor Canis. A few of the boys started to nudge each other, and Harry heard Lavender whisper down the table, "She's terrible pretty, isn't she?" Then someone in Hufflepuff started clapping, and soon the whole hall was joining in.

"Next," Dumbledore continued, when the applause had died down, "I should like to remind students that the Forbidden Forest, is, as the name suggests, forbidden. I beg all our students to take note of this, particularly some of our older students who seem to have some difficulty remembering this." His gaze flickered over to the Gryffindor table. "I also must take this opportunity to inform you all that this year the school will be…ah, protected by Dementors, trolls, and Hippogriffs."

There was a gasp from some of the girls in the Hall, but otherwise deathly silence filled the air. No one had been expecting this. Ginny had gone a sickly shade of green.

"But…they can't do that," she said. "They got rid of them in third year. They said they wouldn't have them again."

"Yeah, the Ministry threatened to remove Dumbledore from his post if they didn't have them, apparently," Harry said. "They're afraid Voldemort's going to get into the castle again."

"I advise you all," Dumbledore said, "to stay out of harm's way. Do not wander the school grounds alone. You will not be harmed by any of them unless they are provoked."

_That's not true! _Harry wanted to shout. _They tried to Kiss me in third year!_

"The fight against Voldemort—" A shudder passed over most of the hall. "—is becoming more serious every day. It is important you all recognise this. Do not wander around the school late at night, try not to be alone, and, above all, remember that in this difficult time, friendships are important." His blue eyes looked unusually grave. "Your friends are important. Treasure them. Some of you may face personal loss this year, and at that time, you will need your friends more than ever."

There wasn't a sound from around the hall.

"After that serious note," Dumbledore's voice suddenly became much lighter, "my stomach tells me it is time to eat. Enjoy."

At his last words, food suddenly filled the plates in front of them. After an uneasy silence, chatter started up, and soon the room was filled with voices and the clatter of cutlery.

Harry pushed his plate away. Suddenly, he wasn't very hungry.

TBC.

A/N: And so ends Chapter 10, after a very long delay. Hope you enjoyed it, hopefully the next chapter won't take so long!


	11. The Opossum

A/N: OK, maybe it's been a _little _while since I've updated…I will honestly try to make more of an effort at this updating lark, but, you know…I'm not the most organised of people!

Chapter Eleven; The Opossum

"Good morning, class."

"Good morning, Professor McGonnagall," the class chanted.

"Thank you. You may be seated."

There was a scraping of chairs as the sixth year Gryffindors sat down in their seats. It was the first lesson of the day, and they had been instructed to go to the Transfiguration room to see their Head of House. Professor McGonnagall stood at the front of the class with her wand, eying them sternly.

"Now, I hope that none of you are hoping for a slack year now that your OWLs are over," she said. "You will take your NEWTs at the end of next year, and it is extremely important you put your maximum effort into your work both this year and next. They may seem a long way off now, but you will be surprised at how quickly they creep up. This morning's period will be similar to last year: you will need to choose the subjects you wish to take at NEWT. The maximum number is twelve; the minimum being five. Unless you achieved a great deal of success last year"—all eyes turned to Hermione—"I suggest you do not take twelve subjects. Remember they are called Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests for a reason."

"Mum'll kill me if I don't get at least seven," Ron said with a same groan. "She flipped her lid this summer over the twins' results."

"Yeah, I know," Harry replied. "Ginny told me."

They quickly fell silent at a glance from Professor McGonnagall.

"Now," she continued, pointing her wand at the board. Writing appeared on it, as if written by an invisible hand. "It may occur to you that you need certain OWL results to take certain subjects. For example," she gestured to Transfiguration on the board, "to take Transfiguration, it is preferable you have an Outstanding grade at OWL, although an Exceeds Expectations grade is acceptable. Alternatively, for those of you who also took the Advanced Course, an Exceeds Expectations grade is required." She looked over her glasses at them again. "You will see on your desks is the list of the subjects; simply tap your wand on the ones you wish to take, and the timetable on the other side of the parchment will fill itself out. I am here if you have any questions."

Whispering broke out as everyone started talking about which subjects they wanted to take. Ron let out a groan.

"What is Snape playing at? Only an Outstanding grade is acceptable? I got a bloody Exceeds Expectations, and I think I was lucky to get that!"

"But you don't want to take that, do you?" Harry asked, looking down at his own list of subjects, and back up at the board. "I mean, you hate Snape."

"So do you. I'll bet my bottom Knut you're going to take it."

"Well, yeah, but I need it."

Hermione looked up, interested. "Really? What do you want to go into?"

"I, er…" Harry lowered his voice. "I want to be an Auror…but I haven't said anything to Sirius yet, so keep it quiet."

"Don't you need loads of NEWTs for that? _And _at least six 'Outstanding's with the rest all 'Exceeds Expectations'!"

"Yeah. I asked Dumbledore for the list – there's ten, I think, but he wants me to take Divination as well."

"_Divination?_" Ron looked like he was going to be sick. "You realise what this means? We've got that bat again for _two more years!_"

"We?"

"'Course." Ron grinned. "Didn't think I'd leave you there by yourself, did you? It's a doss class…and Trelawney will accept any grade…I got an Average anyway, so I did all right."

"Cheers." Harry grinned back. "What do you want to do after school, Ron?"

"Well, I did think of being an Auror…but it's really hard, my Dad told me…and you need to be absolutely stunning at Defence Against the Dark Arts. So I thought I'd…er…" He suddenly looked embarrassed. "I want to go into the Ministry's Defence Department…but I want to work out the strategies for them, you know…er, sorry…just an idea…"

"I couldn't think of anything better for you," Harry replied simply.

"Oh yes, Ron, you know how good you are at chess, and so on, remember when we got the Philosopher's Stone, and you got us across that chess board?" Hermione beamed. "You'll be really great!"

"Yeah, maybe. Only I need Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, Herbology and Defence Against the Dark Arts…and I can't take Potions because I don't have the grade!"

"What did you get, Weasley?" Professor McGonnagall's voice said from behind them. Harry felt an icy chill. How much had she heard? What if she told Sirius?

"Exceeds Expectations."

"Hmm." She looked serious. "If you do not have the required grades, then I am afraid you must retake the OWL at this end of this year, in parallel with the NEWT course, and you must receive 'Outstanding' to be able to continue it into next year."

Ron's mouth dropped open. "You mean…I have to take _double Potions?_"

Professor McGonnagall's lips twitched. "That is correct, Mr. Weasley. However, it also means you can only take eleven NEWT subjects, at most."

"Professor," said Hermione, looking up from her list of subjects, "can we take more OWLs if we want to? If we wanted to take them last year, but didn't have enough options?"

Their Head of House looked thoughtful. "Well, yes, I suppose you may, though you may be better off doing them at NEWT level if no OWL is required."

"Oh, OK then. Thank you, Professor."

Harry, meanwhile, had already finished writing out his subjects. Professor McGonnagall picked up his newly completed timetable.

"Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Medical Training, History of Magic, Flying, Muggle Studies, and Divination," she read out. She handed it back to him. "That's quite an interesting combination of subjects, Potter."

Harry only nodded, taking back his timetable. She had to know. _She knew he wanted to be an Auror! _Dumbledore must have told her. Well, that was fine, providing Sirius didn't find out.

"Well, I'm taking the same as you, Harry," Hermione said, putting down her wand. "But I'm doing Arithmacy instead of Divination, and Ancient Runes instead of Flying. And I'm doing OWL Advanced Charms as well."

"Twelve subjects?" Ron ogled at her.

"Well, yes, but I'm only doing eleven NEWTs, so one of them's an OWL, so that doesn't really count."

"Don't bet on it," Harry said darkly. "Advanced Charms is bloody hard."

"Well, I—"

"OK, listen here," Ron interrupted, putting down his own wand and picking up his timetable. "Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Divination, History of Magic, Medical Training, OWL Potions, and OWL Muggle Studies." He looked up. "I promised Dad I'd do Muggle Studies this year…you know how mad he is about Muggles. I bet I'll be really rubbish at it, but it'll keep Dad happy."

Harry grinned. "I'm sure you'll be fine. I'll help you with Muggle Studies if you want – years of living with the Dursleys at least gave me something – a good mark in OWL Muggle Studies."

"And I'll help with Potions," Hermione said at once.

Ron smiled slightly. "Thanks, but I'll be OK. Though I still can't believe I've got to put up with Snape twice as much as normal. Greasy git. I'll probably end up killing him by the end of the year."

"But at least you'll have an 'Outstanding' by the end of it," Harry pointed out. "Snape would probably take it as a personal insult if you took OWL twice an still failed to get top marks."

"I hope I fail then. That'll teach him a lesson."

The three of them laughed. From somewhere outside, the bell rang, and they stood up, picking up their bags. Ron checked his timetable.

"Ah, what? I don't believe it – double Potions first!"

The next morning dawned bright and clear. The air was still warm from summer, but, as Hermione said as they crossed the lawn to go to Herbology, it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Can't wait to see what Professor Canis like," Ron said. He held the door open for Harry and Hermione. At a glare from Hermione, he added: "I mean as a teacher, Herm…nothing else…"

Harry suspected otherwise. That may have had something to do with Ron keeping every up the last two nights talking about how beautiful Professor Canis was. Ignoring Ron's comment, he sat down at one of the benches. "She's certainly qualified for the job. Sirius was telling me; she's from the Ministry—she was the inspector of dangerous magical plants, or something."

"Wow." Ron looked impressed. "Beautiful _and _intelligent."

Hermione looked as though she was about to say something rude, but Professor Canis entered the greenhouse at that moment, closing the door behind her.

"Please take a seat."

There was a mad scramble for seats at the front workbenches. Professor Canis waited patiently until everyone was sitting down, and was quiet.

"Over the next two years," she said, "you will be dealing only with Greenhouses Six, Seven, and Eight. As you know, these contain the most dangerous – and useful – plants in the school. You will obey all instructions. You will not mess about in my class. Anyone who does not follow these rules shall be sent to the Headmaster, and banned from this class. Is that understood?"

There were murmurs of "yes, ma'am' from around the greenhouse. Professor Canis smiled suddenly, showing perfect white teeth.

"Good. I do believe you and I shall get along very well." She took off the long cloak she had been wearing, revealing a low cut, dark green robe. "Now, this morning, we shall be tending to some peapoppers, which had a run-in with a Body Bind Curse earlier this week—"

"That's terribly bad for them, isn't it?" Hermione spoke up, as the teacher placed a peapopper in front of each person. Professor Canis whipped around to glare at her.

"_Yes_. That's is why we are tending to them, Miss…?"

"Granger."

"Well, Miss Granger, I would thank you not to interrupt me again."

Ron turned to stare at Harry. Harry guessed his friend was thinking the same as he was: _A teacher except Snape who doesn't like Hermione?_

"Now, who can tell me something about peapoppers? Mr. Potter, I believe you can?"

"They're very difficult to get hold of, but if you do, they have excellent healing properties. At times they seem fairly human in their behaviour, but if they think they're in danger, then they'll spit their peas at you. The peas are poisonous."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor. Who can tell me what precisely the peas do? Yes?" She pointed at Neville, who had cautiously raised his hand. He had been in the Advanced Herbology class with Harry the year before. "What's your name?"

"Neville Longbottom."

"Well, Mr. Longbottom, answer the question."

"The peas…don't they cause the loss of the five senses?" Neville said.

"Go on."

"But that's only if they land in your eyes, ears, mouth or nose, or touch your skin. That's why people usually cast protective spells on themselves before going near them, unless they're experts."

"Or unless they cast body bind curses on the plants," Professor Canis said. "Good work. Take another ten points to Gryffindor. Now, I think everyone's got a peapopper now, haven't they? Good. The plants are a little droopy, because of the curse that was set on them, but they might still spit peas at you, so you'd better all cast protective spells on yourselves. The strongest you know, preferably."

No one moved. Professor Canis frowned.

"What's the problem? Miss Granger?"

Hermione lowered her hand. "We haven't been taught them yet. Professor Black's teaching us them next week, he said."

"I see. Well, I don't think I've ever met a group of sixteen year olds who haven't been able to cast simple protective spells on themselves. Obviously an oversight on Professor Black's part."

"We're doing them next week," Hermione repeated.

"_Do not speak unless you are spoken to._ If I have to tell you again, Miss Granger, I shall deduct points from Gryffindor." Professor Canis got out her wand. "The spell is simple 'Patronum'—a variation on the spell used to protect oneself against Dementors."

"_Patronum,_" everyone muttered, waving their wands.

"Good." Professor Canis nodded. "Right, as you can see, you have a peapopper, another pot, and a blue bowl. You'll need to take the peapopper out of its pot, and then squeeze it over the bowl. This should release a creamy green liquid, which is poisonous as well, so don't touch it. This liquid is the 'illness', if you like. Once you've done that, you can re-pot the peapopper into the new pot, and throw away the liquid and the old pot. Is that clear? Off you go, then."

"She hates Sirius," Harry murmured to Ron and Hermione, as he took hold of the peapopper, and wrenched it out of its pot. It miserably spat out a pea the wrong way. It rolled across the desk, and onto the floor.

"Well _that's_ obvious," Hermione said. I mean, did you hear her? 'Obviously an oversight Professor Black's part.' Even when I said we were doing them next week."

"Oh, you're just annoyed because she's one teacher who doesn't like you." Ron couldn't hide a smile.

"Well, Sirius doesn't like her either, Hermione, if it makes you feel any better," Harry said hastily, before an argument broke out. "But apparently she gets along really well with Remus."

Hermione sniffed. "Well, maybe Remus can't see through her. I'm surprised—he's usually a good judge of character."

"_Just_ because she doesn't like you…"

"Sssh!" Harry swatted Ron with his peapopper to get him to shut up. "I'm trying to hear what she's saying to Seamus."

Professor Canis was leaning forward on Seamus' desk, pointing at the peapopper and gesturing with her hands. Seamus seemed to be more interested in the eyeful of cleavage he was getting.

"Of course," she was saying, "plants are very sensitive to touch, and some people have better hands for feeling plants than others…"

"I assure you, Professor, my hands are perfect for feeling," Seamus said, a dull blush creeping into his cheeks.

"Is that so?" Professor Canis straightened up. "Well, Mr. Finnigan, I look forward to seeing more of this excellent feel you claim to have."

"That's utterly disgusting!" Hermione whispered furiously. "She can't be allowed to do that!"

Harry shrugged. "To anyone else, she's talking about plants, Herm."

"How do you know she's _not_ talking about plants?" Ron demanded.

"Shut up! She's coming over here."

Professor Canis raised her eyebrows when she reached their table. "Have you three finished? You seem to have an awful lot to say to each other."

"Actually, I have." Hermione pushed her peapopper forward, and folded her arms, waiting for the teacher's answer.

Professor Canis inspected it critically. "No you haven't, " she snapped, at last. "I told you to throw away the old pot, and to dispose of the liquid you squeezed out of the plant. Five points from Gryffindor."

"But I—"

"Professor, have I planted this right?" Harry cut in.

"I thought you did these last year, Mr. Potter?"

"Uh, only the theory, you know?"

"Well, that seems to be planted properly." She looked at Ron. "And you are…?"

"Ron Weasley."

"Ah! A Weasley. I know your father—lovely man, he is. I hope you turn out to be the same, Mr. Weasley."

"Well, I—"

"I've finished now, _Professor_." Hermione had returned. Professor Canis nodded once. "You can help Miss Brown. She seems to be having some trouble. And don't let her get it wrong, Miss Granger. It would look terrible on your record."

Divination that afternoon was less confrontational, mainly because neither Hermione nor Professor Canis were present. Ron and Harry made their way to the North Tower after lunch, and, not to their surprise, they found that the NEWT Divination class was fairly small compared to some of their other classes – all the Houses were put together, despite that almost all the Gryffindors had taken it.

"Ah well, you know, Harry," Seamus said, grinning, "we can't miss Trelawney's predictions of your death every lesson. How many years since she first predicted it? Three? Looks like you're still alive and kicking…how surprising."

"Ssssh, you are disturbing the aura in the room, dear." Professor Trelawney had floated up through the trapdoor without any of them noticing. Her voice, as usual, sounded light and faraway. As she addressed the class, she was looking vaguely into the distance. "You have all chosen to take Divination NEWT. I understand that some of you may not possess quite the Inner Eye we are looking for, but, none the less, you all have an opportunity to do well in my class. Today we shall be looking at Medical Card Readings. If you find yourself a partner…the details are on page two hundred and thirty four of your textbooks…"

Harry opened his textbook, and took the pack of cards Professor Trelawney had placed on each of their desks, shuffling them as he scanned the page detailing the readings.

"The dog," he read aloud, "represents female reproductive problems. Infertility, endometriosis, PMS cramps, etc." He lowered his voice. "Do you think that's got anything to do with Sirius?"

Ron snorted with laughter, and Professor Trelawney glared in their direction. "Just do the card reading," he said. "And make sure I don't get a dog!"

"Okay." Harry dealt three cards, face down. He turned the first one up. "Uhh…the Badger…you have a…hormonal imbalance…"

"A _hormonal imbalance?_ What's that supposed to mean?"

"Uhhh, dunno…right, second one…The Butterfly…holes in the aura causing problems…"

They looked at each other, and started to laugh. Lavender glared at them similar to the way Professor Trelawney had, which just made them laugh harder.

"OK, OK," Harry said, between laughs. "Last one…the Eagle…errr your charkas are blocked and your spirit isn't able to soar…"

Ron started to laugh harder. "I can't soar! What a load of bullocks. Here, let me do you."

He took the cards from Harry, and dealt another three, opening his textbook to the right page.

"Umm…your first one is…Armadillo…things aren't looking too good for you, mate; problems sleeping, e.g. insomnia, nightmares, etc."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Like that's new."

"OK, second one…Raven…oh, don't worry, it gets worse…head pains." Ron looked up. "Could that be to do with your scar?"

Harry shrugged. "Like you said, it's a load of bullocks anyway."

"Too right…" Ron turned the final card over. There was a gasp from behind him; Professor Trelawney. He and Harry looked up.

"My dear…the Opossum!"

At their blank faces, she went on, her eyes large behind her glasses.

"The Opossum, dears! Death! Returning to spirit! Nothing you can do!"

Harry checked his textbook. She had repeated the explanation word for word.

This time it was Seamus and Dean who started laughing first, and soon, nearly the whole class was joining in.

"Doesn't look like there'll be much of a change this year, then," Ron said in a low voice.

Professor Trelawney, however, was not laughing. She was giving him a very significant look. Harry busied himself with looking back over his card readings, and he realised, with a chill that ran down his spine, that all three of the card readings were all quite likely possibilities.

"Did you make it, Helena?"

"No, I'm on the reserve list though…"

"I don't believe it! I got in!"

"Ahhh, well done! That's so great!"

"That's okay, maybe you'll make it next year or the year after…"

Harry watched with amusement as most of Gryffindor House tried to crowd around the same notice that he had pinned up on the board just a few minutes ago. He saw Natalie McDonald push her way out of the crowd, her face lit up with excitement.

"Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!" she said to Harry breathlessly. "I didn't think you'd put me in!"

"That's all right." He smiled. "We only choose the best. See you at practise."

"Quidditch notice?" Hermione asked, as Natalie bounced away to tell her friends.

"Yeah, new team."

"Don't you have to do trials or something?"

He shook his head. "Last year, the team picked Daniel for Keeper…he's still only fourth year, and the rest of the team have left, so I talked to Professor McGonnagall about it."

Harry noticed with a slight frown that Ron hadn't moved. His head was still bent over a Divination essay due in for the next day…the same Divination essay Harry should have been doing. _Still. Why aren't you going up?_

Most people had cleared away from the board now, a lot of people seemed to be laughing crazily, everyone in good spirits.

"Mind if I go and look?" Hermione said to Harry. He shook his head.

"Go ahead." He bent his own head over his homework, so that Ron wouldn't see the small smile on his lips.

"Ron! Oh, Ron!"

Ron's head snapped up just in time for Hermione to throw his arms around him. "Wha—"

"You're on the Quidditch team!" she said joyfully. "As Beater!"

"Are you _serious?_" Ron cast a sidelong look at Harry, who couldn't hide his smile this time. "You haven't seen me play in ages though!"

"I have my sources." Harry tapped his nose.

Ron couldn't seem to contain his delight. "I. Made. The. Team. Oh my God!" Still with Hermione hanging round his neck, he threw his own arms around Harry, so that they all ended up on the floor, laughing madly. Harry caught side of Ginny as she came through the entrance to the common room.

"What are you lot so happy about?" she said, as Harry struggled out from under Ron, still laughing.

"Ginny! Ginny, I'm on the team!" Ron called from under Hermione. "I'm on the Quidditch team!"

She flashed a Harry an overjoyed look that clearly said: 'Thanks so much!' He grinned as she stepped up to the board to check for herself. He watched as she scanned the list…and her finger reached her name.

Her reaction was not quite the same as Ron's. She turned to Harry as he came up behind her.

"Harry," she said. "I'm only going to ask you this once. Did you put me on the team just because of Ron?"

It wasn't the reaction he had been expecting. "Of course not! That could be bad for the team – not to mention it wouldn't be fair on you." He paused. "I chose the best players. And only the best players made the team."

She seemed to believe him, because she suddenly reached up on tiptoe and gave him a warm hug. "I didn't think I'd be good enough…I didn't think you'd even _consider _me!"

"Well, better start thinking it, because practise starts next week." His face was ever so slightly red as Ginny released him from her hug. She turned to her brother.

"Ronald Weasley," she said. "You're looking at your fellow Beater."

TBC

A/N: Well, there you have it, another (quite long) chapter, just for you. Please don't forget to review!


	12. Talks and Damsels in Distress

A/N: Voila! Chapter 12 for you all. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Chapter 12; Talks and Damsels in Distress

The next few weeks passed Harry by quickly, as he settled into a routine filled with classes, Quidditch practices four nights a week, and homework, which seemed to be getting heavier and heavier every day. Indeed, it was a miracle Harry found the time to eat or sleep – though it was true he and Hermione, with their enormous workloads, kept each other company working until the early hours of the morning. As a consequence, Harry had barely seen Sirius or Remus since the term had started – only in classes. However, nearing the end of September, at the end of a particularly difficult lesson on advanced defence shields, Sirius called Harry over.

"Hey, Stranger," his godfather said, his lips twitching slightly. "Long time, no speak."

"Yeah, I know – I'm sorry," Harry said wearily. "I've just been bogged down with homework and stuff – the workload we're getting—"

"Well, I did warn you that they were called 'Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests' for a reason." Sirius was studying him closely. "I'd watch it – you're beginning to show the strain a little. Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Yes," said Harry uncomfortably, and quickly changed the subject. "There's Quidditch practises as well; we've got our first match against Hufflepuff this Saturday…you are coming, aren't you?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," his godfather assured him. "But I want to catch up with you properly…will you come down to my quarters after dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, sure – no, wait, I've got Quidditch practice until nine o'clock, can I come down after that?"

"'Course you can." Sirius smiled, and shooed him away. "Now go! Don't miss lunch!"

Harry jumped down from his sitting position on the desk, and picked up his bag. "See you later," he called over his shoulder.

It was lucky he had something to look forward to later that day, because Snape was in a particularly foul mood in Double Potions that afternoon, and was ready to take points off Gryffindor if anyone spoke – even if they weren't in Gryffindor.

"Veritaserum," he said silkily, holding a tiny bottle up to show the class. "The most powerful truth serum there is. I doubt even a few of you will be able to brew this potion correctly – however, we shall see. Open your books at page three hundred and eighty-two and start. Please note it says only a _sprinkle_ of monkshood…tell me, Potter, why only a _sprinkle_?"

Hermione's hand shot in the air. Harry wracked his brain for what he knew about monkshood.

"Er…because monkshood's really powerful, and too much of it can have a bad effect on people – also, werewolves are allergic to monkshood, and if there was too much in the truth serum, it would kill them."

Snape held Harry's gaze for a moment, and then continued. He hadn't awarded any points to Gryffindor for the correct answer – but then again, Harry thought, scanning the page in his textbook, at least he hadn't taken any away, either.

"You will need to put your cauldrons on a large flame," Snape said. "And at the end we will test…yes, Weasley's, I think…he must prove he is up to the NEWT standard, after all…but ten points from Gryffindor for looking down at the book and not at me while I am talking, _Weasley_. Same goes to Potter."

Ron opened his mouth to protest at this unfairness, but Harry kicked him under the table. "Shut up," he hissed.

"And a further five points for talking, Potter…yes, I think we'll take another five for kicking a student."

Harry ignored him, unwilling to rise to the bait – if he hadn't kicked Ron, it would have been fifty points from Gryffindor for arguing with a teacher.

"Just like your father, Potter," Snape hissed, as Harry shed his monkshood. "Just a bully, really, aren't you? Just like him…used to parade around the school, bullying other students just to get his fan club to laugh…Five points from Gryffindor," he added to someone else in the back row.

"But, Sir, it was Malfoy who—" Hermione began.

"Another five points for arguing, Granger." Snape didn't look at her, keeping his eyes on Harry, who was now lighting his cauldron, and adding the Kneazle blood. Snape's voice was lowered, so it was impossible for anyone but Harry – other than Ron and Hermione, who were sitting either side of him – to hear. "Yes, Potter…Black and Lupin might tell you how wonderful your father was, but then again, I suppose they would…they were just as much bullies as he was, strutted around the school just as he did…though I would go so far as to say you have a bigger head than he did…_touching_ story there was in the paper over the summer, Potter, did you see it? About how your little girlfriend had been _brutally _murdered in front of you…what another hardship the Boy-Who-Lived had to _suffer_…I expect you enjoyed the attention, didn't you, Potter?"

"Yeah, that's right," Harry suddenly snapped. "I enjoyed seeing my girlfriend die at the hands of Voldemort…real happy time that was. Real fun and games."

"Five points from Gryffindor for sarcasm…though as I understand it, you had photos taken for the story too…no stranger to photoshoots, thought, are you?"

"There wasn't a photoshoot," Harry got out through gritted teeth. "That photo was taken on Platform 9 ¾ - Sirius was in it…"

"Oh, yes, and the werewolf too…have a certain affinity for werewolves, don't you, Potter? Wasn't your _girlfriend_ a werewolf too?"

Ron and Hermione had completely stopped working now, their eyes flicking nervously between Snape and Harry. Harry said nothing.

"Perhaps she's better off now, then," Snape said. "Who would love a monster, after all?"

"Actually," Harry spat, standing up, and grabbing his bag, "I did. Only then your _master_ went and killed her." He threw his potions ingredients into his bag, and, before anyone could stop him, walked out.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for walking out of class," Snape shouted after him. Harry didn't go back. He hardly noticed where he was going as he strode down the hallways, his mind spinning. Snape had _known_ he was pushing him. He must have known that Harry would either lose his temper, or leave. Harry hadn't wanted to lose his temper – he probably would have ended blowing something up accidentally. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice Remus until he heard his name.

"Harry!"

Harry stopped short, realising he'd almost bumped into the older man. "Hey Remus."

"Aren't you supposed to be in class? Or have you got a free period?"

"No," Harry said. "I'm supposed to be in class."

"Ah." Remus eyed Harry's bag and his frown. "Which class?"

"Double Potions with Snape…I sort of walked out," Harry added, almost sheepishly as Remus frowned. "He was going on about my dad, and then Jessica, and then werewolves, and back to Jessica, and – oh sod it, why am I even telling you this? You're just going to make me go back, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm not." Remus seemed surprised at the suggestion. "I have a free afternoon…why don't you come and have a cup of tea in my office, Sirius and I were saying this morning how we haven't seen you much recently."

"Yeah, I know – Sirius arranged with me today to go and talk to him after Quidditch practice tonight," Harry said, following Remus down the corridor. "I've just had loads of work, and Quidditch, and—"

"It's quite all right," Remus said with a small smile as they reached his office. "Sirius and I have been busy with classes and suchlike too…the beginning of term is always such a mad time…" He pushed open the door, and motioned for Harry to go in.

In the corner sat an empty tank - empty, save a small hedgehog-like creature which was throwing itself against the sides. When one of its needles broke off, it sat back, looking most disgruntled with itself. Remus followed Harry's gaze.

"A Knarl," he explained, flicking his wand at a pot, which immediately began pouring two mugs of steaming tea. "I do hope he doesn't damage himself too much before next week's lesson…I'd give him food to distract him, but most distrustful, Knarls are…he'd probably think I was trying to lure him into a trap…he's probably neglected to realise he's already been trapped."

Harry gave a small smile, his gaze wandering round Remus' office again as he took a seat. His office was still the same sunny yellow, but some of the photos on the wall had changed - there was still one of Remus' graduation day, which included Remus, Sirius, Harry's parents, Peter, Katherine, and another girl Harry didn't recognise. He knew Sirius had a similar photo, bur last time Harry had looked, Sirius had hexed the Peter in the photograph so badly that Peter refused to show his face. He looked over the other photos - there was one of Lily and James on their wedding day (Harry had that one too), one of a couple that could only have been Remus' parents, and then a photograph of Harry and Sirius that must have been taken sometime during the summer. Both of them was standing aside broomsticks - the Sirius in the photo kept trying to mount his broom and take off, but the Harry was pulling him back down, gesturing to the balls still in the box. The Sirius seemed to get very indignant at this until the Harry hit him over the head with his broomstick, and then took off at a run as his godfather chased him. Remus looked up at the wall.

"Oh yes," he said. "I took that one in August, when you and Sirius decided to have a one-on-one Quidditch game, only Sirius didn't seem to remember you needed balls to play…"

"I remember that. He chased me three times around the field." Harry accepted a mug from Remus, and watched the steam rise in small curls from the surface of the tea, not knowing what to say next.

"What was it Snape was saying?" Remus asked gently, stroking a small Niffler which had just jumped out of an open desk drawer.

"About my dad…I kicked Ron under the table to get him to shut up before Snape took away any more points - he must've taken away at least fifty points just in the ten minutes I was there - and then he started going on about how my dad was a bully - you and Sirius, too - thought you could control the school or something, and how I was just like him…"

"I see." Remus blew the steam off the surface of his tea. "James was not a bully by any means, Harry - I don't want you to get the wrong idea from a man who hated him - Severus hadn't liked James or Sirius from the beginning, and neither of them did anything to help that fact. On several occasions, Severus tried to hex James and Sirius, but both of them - being two of the cleverest students in the school - were always there to deflect whatever curse it was from the other, usually back to Severus."

"No, I didn't think my dad _was_ a bully," Harry said hurriedly. "Just then Snape started to go on about how I have a bigger head than my dad, about how I must have _enjoyed_ Jessica's death because it meant I had more attention…" He suddenly realised he was gripping the handle of the mug very hard, and quickly set it down on the table, not wanting to snap the handle right off. "It's not true!" he burst out. "I would've given _anything_ to have died instead of her - I didn't even want that stupid article to be published! And then there was that picture of me and Sirius at King's Cross - Snape said it was a _photoshoot - _"

"Of course it wasn't. You know what Professor Snape is saying is rubbish, so why are you listening?" Remus shook his head. "Of course you didn't _enjoy_ Jessica's death - he knows that, he's just trying to get to you - "

"I know…but it worked." Harry had enough sense not to bring up the comment about loving werewolves. His hands were shaking slightly as he took a sip from his mug. "Does he still make the Wolfsbane potion for you?"

Remus nodded and sighed. "I'm very grateful to him - Sirius of course is adamant Severus will poison it, but I'd rather take that risk…luckily the full moon falls on a Saturday this month, so I won't need any time off…_this_ Saturday, in fact." He held up his hand as Harry opened his mouth. "Don't worry, I'm still coming to watch the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff."

"I was going to say you don't have to."

"Why would I miss it? If the match fell on Sunday, then perhaps I'd have more trouble…" Remus gave a wry smile. "How's the new team shaping up?"

"It's brilliant - Ron and Ginny work as well together as Fred and George did - Daniel's still an amazing Keeper - and the three Chasers really co-operate together…." He grinned. "I'd go so far as to say we've got the best team in the school…some of the other Gryffindors come and watch our practices sometimes - Dean Thomas comes, so do a couple of third years, though they just sit there and giggle…"

"Probably giggling over the captain."

Harry felt himself go red. "Probably over Ron or Daniel."

Remus' lips twitched. "You'd be surprised what teachers overhear, Harry…mind you, James used to get a lot of attention as well…Lily didn't like that much, I can tell you."

Harry felt his blush deepen - he had heard girls giggling in the corridor, but he usually assumed they were laughing _at_ him. Remus gave a small laugh himself at Harry's face.

"You know…there's going to be another ball this year."

"What?" Harry's head snapped up. "What is this, some kind of annual thing now?"

Remus nodded, a smile gracing his lips. "Another Halloween one - at least you'll have no shortage of girls to go with. You'd best start thinking about it - I think the notice goes up next week, but I know what you and Ron are like."

_Yeah, Jessica had to ask me last year, _Harry remembered, and he felt a painful pang. How could he ask someone else to a ball he'd gone to just a year ago with Jessica? Who would he dare ask? Remus seemed to sense some of the thoughts going through his head.

"You know, Harry, I've told you this before - Jessica would want you to be happy," he said gently.

"Yeah." Harry found himself staring determinedly out of the window.

"I was terrible after your parents' death, you know," Remus said suddenly. "I'd just lost two of the most important people in my life - and then of course, Sirius got landed in Azkaban, and I believed Peter dead…Katherine moved to America…I was alone. I kept going over everything in my mind, finding all possible ways I could have prevented all this - couldn't I have worked out Sirius was the spy? Remember, of course, I went through twelve years of believing it was _Sirius_ who was the betrayer…couldn't I have prevented Lily and James' deaths? Couldn't I have saved Peter? Talked to Katherine? Couldn't I have rescued you from the remains of Godric's Hollow before Hagrid had?

"I tried, of course, to get to see you, tried to get custody of you, but no one would have it. Dumbledore said it was for the best you stayed with your aunt and uncle, and the whole Ministry was against you living with a werewolf…I can see their point now, of course…

"But it didn't stop me blaming myself for anything. I only truly began to recover when I came to Hogwarts to teach in your third year…when I met you, and you told me what you heard when the Dementors came close…what right did I have to blame myself when you , at just thirteen, heard your parents pleading with Voldemort…" Remus had stood up now, and was staring at the photographs up on the wall. "I don't know exactly what is was that helped me move on…learning the truth about Sirius helped, of course, and realising I wasn't alone anymore…" He turned around and looked at Harry suddenly. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I spent twelve years blaming myself for deaths that weren't my fault - I don't want the same thing to happen to you."

"But - but you weren't there, were you? I saw Cedric and Jessica die…both of them, dead, because of me…"

"Harry," Remus shook his head, "they didn't die because of you - they died because of Voldemort. Jessica died -"

"Because Voldemort knew I cared about her!" Harry said, jumping to his feet. "You weren't there - he asked me if Jessica was my girlfriend, and if I wanted him to kill her…_she died because I cared about her_!"

"Harry," Remus put a hand on Harry's shaking shoulder, "Harry, you still can't blame yourself - it's not your fault you care about people - it's all Voldemort's doing…don't blame yourself for something that's beyond your control…even if you pretended not to care about people, Voldemort would know, they'd still be in danger, and then you'd blame yourself for not caring enough to stop it…Harry, if you blame yourself, if you continue to blame yourself, you make yourself more of a target…Jessica would not have wanted you to blame yourself, I know everyone's said that to you a million times, but it's true - she would have wanted you to move on - just as I realised, twelve years too late, that Lily and James would have wanted me to move on…I wasted twelve years of my life being alone, Harry, you don't need to do that. Don't make the same mistakes I did."

Still shaking slightly, Harry sank back down onto the chair, putting his head in his hands. In his mind's eye, he could see Voldemort pressing his wand against Jessica's temple, a blinding flash of green light, and then Jessica's dead body…_She wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself…She would've wanted you to be happy…She would've wanted you to move on_…Harry had heard them all. Yet, was there any truth behind them? He looked back up at Remus, who looked at him with sad eyes.

"It doesn't do to dwell on the past and forget to live, Harry."

"That's what Dumbledore said to me in first year."

"You'd do well to remember his words."

_It doesn't do to dwell on the past and forget to live…Jessica would've wanted you to be happy…_

Harry stood up, picking up his bag, and walking to the door. "Thanks, Remus," he said quietly. Remus nodded to show he understood, and, with a last small smile, Harry left.

* * *

"Over here, Natalie!" 

"To Emma!"

"SCORE!"

There was a cheer from down below in the stands, and Harry looked down from his broom to see again, Dean Thomas with some of the third years sitting in the stands, watching the Gryffindor practice. There were more, though…he squinted, and saw Parvati and Lavender also sitting there, talking quietly to Dean, who seemed to have his eyes fixed determinedly on the team as they flew around. Harry looked at his watch, and realised, with a jolt, that it was quarter to nine already. He reached out and grabbed the Snitch, which had been hovering beside him for a few minutes, and blew the whistle around his neck.

"Let's call it a night!" he called. "Ron…Ginny…can you two get the Bludgers…Emma, if you can grab the Quaffle…"

The team landed, and Harry wrestled the balls back into the small chest. "All I'd say, Chasers, is not to call to each other - it tells the other team exactly what you're doing, and you're better off having the element of surprise…if you all want to shout out names you're _not_ going to pass to, though, and confuse the other team…" He grinned. "Be my guests. Ron and Ginny…play like that on Saturday…try and knock as many Hufflepuffs off their brooms as you can…" He grinned again, putting his thumbs up. "We've got one more practice before our game, so that's our last chance to smooth out any problems. Good job, though; I'll see you at the next practice."

Most of the team started walking back up to the castle. Dean came running out from the stands.

"Ginny! Ginny, can I walk you back up?"

Ginny turned from where she'd been waiting with Ron for Harry, and blushed slightly. "Er…yes, of course - I'll see you two in the common room," she said to Ron and Harry, and began to walk. Harry bent down, adjusting the balls in the chest.

"You go," he said to Ron in a low voice.

"No," Ron said darkly, jerking his head towards Ginny and Dean, who had stopped at the end of the Quidditch pitch - for what reason, Harry didn't know. "I want to know what they're doing."

"Leave it - go up, I've got to put away the balls, I'll keep an eye on it, all right? You know what Gin'll say if she thinks you're being the protective older brother…I'll see you later."

"Well, all right…" Ron still looked uncertain, but picked up Harry's broom for him. "I'll take your broom if you've got to carry that thing…"

"Thanks." Harry watched Ron go. He was still strapping in the Bludgers properly, but noticed Ginny and Dean didn't leave until a good five minutes after Ron had left, but, finally, they started walking. With a sigh, he finished securing the balls, picked the chest up, and started walking. By the time he'd reached the end of the stadium, he guessed Ginny and Dean must be at least halfway up to school, but to his surprise, he heard voices just outside the Forbidden Forest.

"Dean! No…I don't want to -"

"Of course you want to - "

"No! I don't! _Dean!"_

Harry turned the corner to see Dean - _Dean - _forcing his mouth down on Ginny's. Harry dropped the Quidditch box and started forward, seizing Dean by the shoulders, and pulling him away from Ginny. Ginny stumbled backwards, her eyes wide, her hand over her mouth. Dean turned around and punched Harry straight in the jaw, and Harry, caught by surprise, took a few steps backwards, but fumbled in his pockets, drawing out his wand. He pointed it straight at Dean, who had started towards Ginny again.

"Dean," he said, "get away from her. She clearly doesn't want to kiss you."

"Keep out of things that aren't your business, Harry," Dean spat.

"Get away or I'll hex you," said Harry steadily. "I know some good ones."

"You wouldn't dare, you'd get into - OUCH!" Dean let loose a torrent of swearwords and moans of pain as he sank to his knees, and Harry realised Ginny must have kneed him in a delicate area. She walked over to Harry, refusing to even glance down at Dean.

"Will you walk me back?" she asked Harry softly.

"'Course." Harry massaged his jaw, and picked up the chest again. "Has that happened before?" he asked as soon as they were out of earshot of Dean.

"No! Or I wouldn't have walked with him…" Ginny looked stricken. "I don't fancy him, Harry, you know that, don't you? It's just he keeps sending me all these roses and love letters…I don't want to be horrible to him…but I don't fancy him…he's not a bad person, he honestly was just trying to kiss me."

"He better have been," Harry growled. "Or I would've done a lot more than just hex him."

Ginny let out a small laugh, and turned to look at him. "Is your jaw all right? I mean, he didn't really hurt you, did he?"

Harry felt it. "I think it's just bruised…I'll ask Sirius if he's got any Bruising Balm when I go and see him." He grinned. "Wouldn't want it ruining my good looks, now, would we?"

"Oh, shove off." Ginny gave him a small push. "I know you don't _really_ think you're good looking…but you are…loads of girls - "She stopped suddenly.

"Yes?" Harry couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. "Most girls what?"

"Well…oh, come on, you must know girls fancy you!" At Harry's blank look, she rolled her eyes. "Typical boy, aren't you?"

"Hey, I resent that. How many boys do you know who get about fifty points taken from Gryffindor in twenty minutes, walk out on Snape, have tea with Remus Lupin for the remainder of the lesson, and then finish the day by saving damsels in distress?"

"I am _not_ a damsel in distress!" Ginny said hotly as they reached the Entrance Hall. "_I _was the one who had him on his knees in the end!"

"Yeah, I know, I'm just teasing," Harry assured her, stopping at the cupboard to put the balls away.

"What were you talking to Professor Lupin about?" Ginny asked. She leaned against the wall, waiting for him to finish.

Harry looked at her, but felt himself relax - he could trust Ginny. "Jessica," he admitted. "Remus told me about how he'd blamed himself after my parents died, and that I shouldn't blame myself for things that were out of my control. He's right, I guess," he added, closing the cupboard door again. "I can't keep thinking about it, it'll drive me mad."

"Oh Harry." To Harry's surprise, Ginny reached up to give him a warm hug. "You mustn't blame yourself, you know," she told him, as she drew bad, slightly pink. "It's Vol-Voldemort's fault, not yours."

"Yeah, I know." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Trust a 'typical boy' like me to take a few months to realise that, though."

"I didn't mean it in a bad way -"

"Yeah, I know you didn't, I was teasing." Harry sighed. "Look, I said I'd go and visit Sirius tonight - you going to be all right getting to the common room?"

"Of course I am!" Ginny said indignantly, drawing herself up to her full height of five foot three. "I'll see you later…and Harry…thanks."

"It's no problem." Harry watched Ginny walk to the other side of the Entrance Hall, before running to catch up with her. She looked slightly startled. "Look," he said. "Students aren't supposed to know yet, but Remus told me earlier…there's going to be a Halloween Ball again…could - will you - I mean, would you like to go with me?" He drew in a deep breath, waiting for Ginny's reaction.

Her face split into a smile, and she went very red. "Yes," she said. "Yes, of course."

"Thanks…but don't tell everyone, I don't want Ron to know - he'll murder me."

"Oh, him." Ginny waved her hand. "Who cares about him? Go on…you'd better go and meet Sirius."

"Yeah, you're right…I'll see you later." This time it was Harry who left Ginny, as he nearly ran down the stairs, glancing at his watch. It was nearly twenty past nine. He skidded to a stop outside Sirius' quarters, knocking on the door.

"Come in," his godfather's voice called. Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside, to see Sirius sitting at the coffee table, marking a pile of essays. It was strange to see Sirius actually do some work - Harry couldn't ever recall seeing his godfather mark anything, even though this was his second year of teaching. "You're late," Sirius said, pushing the essays aside, but there was a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, Dean tried to kiss Ginny," Harry hurriedly explained, flopping down on the sofa. "Only she wasn't very interested…"

"Ah, so you were to busy playing the hero to come and see your old godfather?"

"No! Just Ginny needed my help…I'm going to the ball with her, by the way," Harry said vaguely, looking around the room. Like Remus, Sirius had been doing some decorating. More photographs lined the wall - there were a lot of the Marauders (most of them having had Peter hexed out of the picture), a couple of Harry's parents' wedding day, with Sirius as best man, and a lot of Remus and Harry. He pulled his gaze back to Sirius, who was smirking.

"Always knew you two would get together," he said.

"We're not 'getting together' - we're just going to the ball together. Those things are rubbish, the least I can do is go with someone who I can properly talk to."

"Well, why don't you go with me, Harry?" Sirius asked in a falsely high voice. "I'll make myself just as beautiful as Ginny Weasley."

Harry gave his godfather a small push. "Have you made it up with Katherine yet?"

"Er…" Sirius straightened up. "No…but honestly, there's no point," he added, seeing Harry's face. "You _know_ I tried before, and she just went nuts."

"You've got to be a bit understanding, Siri…she _has_ just lost her daughter."

"Ah yes…Jessica…" Sirius surveyed Harry carefully. "Moony said he'd spoken to you."

"Yeah…I'm fine!" he insisted at his godfather's frown. "Honestly…Remus helped…a lot…you think I would have asked Ginny to the ball if I hadn't taken what he said on board?"

"He said Snivellus had wound you up as well?"

"Snivellus?" Harry snorted.

"Yeah, a nickname your dad and I gave him at school…did he wind you up today?"

"Yeah…he was just trying to push me – it's OK, the worst was taking away fifty-five house points from Gryffindor for nothing."

"Twenty points to Gryffindor for learning to open up to somebody," Sirius said promptly, making Harry laugh. "And let's see, another thirty for learning not to blame yourself…and another ten for 'rescuing' Ginny."

"Sirius! You can't just give out points like that."

"I just did. They're points well deserved," said Sirius mildly. "So what else's been going on? How're your classes coming? I can't even remember what you took."

"Er…" Harry was suddenly nervous – would Sirius guess from his options what his career path was? "I'm doing eleven N.E.W.Ts…just I get so much homework, it's driving me up the wall…"

"I can see," Sirius said. "You sleeping all right?" he asked again.

"Yeah…well, no," Harry admitted at his godfather's disbelieving face. "I work through lunchtime, I get up early to work, I work solidly through the weekend to get all my work done – the only other time I have is late at night."

"Maybe you should drop a couple of subjects, then?"

"No – I can't…it – it must be doable, Hermione's doing eleven _and _another OWL…"

"Hmm, all right…at least get some more sleep…just drop doing a couple of Divination essays or something. " Sirius looked mischievous. "That old bat was predicting your immediate and sudden death in the staff room yesterday – McGonnagall was getting quite shirty with her…"

Harry laughed. "She's been predicted my death since the beginning of third year…I used to think you were the Grim, you know," he told Sirius suddenly. "Every time I saw you, I used to have near-fatal accidents."

"Oh cheers, I love being thought of as an omen of death." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Now, what I wanted to ask is if you wanted to come out on the full moon this month – it's on Saturday night."

Harry stared at him, his mouth slightly open. "But – you said over the summer—"

"I know what I said. But we're at Hogwarts now…if I can't protect you, there's all the teachers, and Voldemort's not likely to just come strolling up the driveway, all the wards have been strengthened…" Sirius grinned. "You could take the Animagus form your father did – a stag."

"I've never tried that one before," Harry said softly. "Can I?"

"'Course you can. I wouldn't exactly spread it around, though…I don't think Dumbledore would be _overly_ enthusiastic with the idea…" Sirius glanced at his watch. "Go on, you, if you've got more homework to do, I don't want you staying up later than you have to – you'd better get back to the Tower. Remember what I said about getting some more sleep."

"I will."

_Not _that it was altogether likely Harry would heed his godfather's advice. But it seemed to keep Sirius happy, and Harry left the room quietly, leaving his godfather to his stack of essays, with his thoughts spinning on the upcoming full moon.

TBC.

A/N: Very long chapter, would you not agree? 5484 words, so my MS word count tells me…please don't forget to review!


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